Casus Belli
by Lil Lupin
Summary: James Potter: popular, arrogant, with a black-and-white ideology. Sirius Black: equally as popular, equally as arrogant, and dangerously reckless. Remus Lupin: dying to be liked. And Severus Snape: walking a fine line between destiny and choice, all the while trying to get his nemeses expelled. A story covering the Willow Incident and Snape's Worst Memory. Canon-compliant.
1. Prologue: The Beginning

**Disclaimer: **All rights to characters, places, objects and concepts you recognise belong to J.K. Rowling.

**A/N: **I never intended to write this. I actually started writing a Jily fic some time ago, which began in the Marauders' seventh year. I struggled with characterisation, particularly the relationship between Lily and James because I didn't know what had happened between the events of Snape's Worst Memory and the start of their seventh year. I decided, then, that I would start the story straight after those events. That still didn't work, because I simply could not make head nor tail of the fact the infamous 'prank' involving Snape and the Whomping Willow came before a scene in which James and Sirius start an apparently unprovoked attack on Snape.

I know many people are divided on the issue and that many have chosen to see James and Sirius as callous bullies. This doesn't really hold as an explanation for me. They might have been immature, arrogant and occasionally cruel, but they weren't stupid. They would have had to be spectacularly thick – and completely indifferent to how Remus would feel – in order to do what they did to Snape post-the DADA OWL when they knew Snape could blab Remus's secret at any moment. It _is_, nonetheless,a difficult thing to fathom, and so this story gives one explanation for how it could have happened. It also tries to go some way to giving a more rounded view of why Lily was so affected by Snape's one-time use of the word 'mudblood' and where that terrific outburst Lily had against James came from.

I've tried very hard to face certain truths head-on. James and Sirius were arrogant, and they hexed people who annoyed them. Sirius showed no remorse, even eighteen years later, for sending Snape to meet a werewolf. That for me means that Sirius was not careless; his actions were entirely wilful. And Snape was not a powerless victim; he "hexed James at every opportunity he got" and was always attempting to get the Marauders into trouble.

This fic will, therefore, not be for everyone. It is not for you if you want a one-sided portrayal of Snape as the victim; nor is it for anyone who wants to excuse Sirius's actions on the grounds he just 'didn't think'. I do, however, have an innate pro-Marauder tendency, and perhaps you might like to think about the sort of story I'll write in light of that. You have been warned!

For any readers of Ask No Questions; it IS going to be finished. This just took over for a bit.

* * *

**Prologue: The beginning**

The day that Albus Dumbledore had turned up on the Lupins' doorstep – 28th February 1971, to be precise – was singularly the most exhilarating of Remus's young life to date. And, really, it was where all this had started.

The Lupins had not been expecting the Hogwarts Headmaster to visit. On the contrary: Lyall and Hope Lupin had already explained in gentle terms to their ten year-old that, because of his condition, he would not be allowed to attend Hogwarts – instead, Lyall would teach him at home. It had been a distressing conversation for both Lyall and Hope, who had entertained high hopes for their son up until six years before, but Remus had said very little during their talk. It was true that he was generally a quiet and well-mannered boy, and outbursts were not in his nature. But Lyall and Hope had come to the conclusion that Remus's apparent indifference was because he simply didn't know what he was missing out on. This was not an unreasonable assumption. Over the years, they had been careful not to show Remus too many photographs of Hogwarts; Lyall had not even mentioned the House system. It had seemed pointless – in fact, even cruel – to rub in Remus's face what he could never have.

Ten days after the conversation about Hogwarts, however, Hope Lupin was starting to worry. Remus had gone from quiet to silent. He was spending far too much time in his bedroom. He emerged only for mealtimes. He had no friends she could send him to see; and it was freezing cold, so she could not persuade him even to take his book outside. She had tried to talk to him about it, and she had been met with Remus's wan smile and an assurance that he was fine. Even Lyall, with his vocal assurances that their son just needed time, could not hide the worry and uncertainty in his eyes.

As Hope Lupin drummed her fingers on the checked kitchen tablecloth, watching the rain slash against the window, she wished, not for the first time, that her son had just been left alone on that full moon six years before.

Not for her sake – as frightened as she had been the first time her little boy had transformed into a howling creature that scratched and threw itself at the door, her son was the clever and loving boy he always had been, and she could never feel differently about him. No, what she hated about the lycanthropic curse that Remus was inflicted with was the way it was systematically and thoroughly destroying every aspect of Remus's young life.

"Hope, love, have you seen my book on the creation of Boggarts?"

Lyall Lupin asked the question as he entered the kitchen, and Hope turned her head to look at her husband. He had lost a lot of weight in the last few years – the constant stress of moving every few months and finding ever more inventive ways to contain an animal that did not want to be contained took its toll on him even more than it did on Hope. He alone understood the real implications of Remus's condition: Hope, as a Muggle, only knew second-hand what the wizarding community's attitude towards werewolves was.

"Mrs Whippet was asking questions about Remus this morning at church," she said, instead of answering her husband's question. "Said it was odd for a boy not to have any friends. And she'd noticed him looking unwell twice in the last two months."

"We'll have to move again," said Lyall, his green eyes – so much like Remus's – taking on that haunted look they often did these days.

"Do we _have _to? She's not a witch…she couldn't possibly guess the truth, could she?" Hope didn't even know why she was arguing. It was not as though she _liked _it in Trebanog, where it seemed to rain constantly and the only shop in the Welsh village was primarily a meeting-place of the local gossips.

Lyall sighed. "Hope, we've been through this before. If we're really serious about protecting Remus – about ensuring no one in the wizarding world ever found out – _no one _can be allowed to even _suspect_. It just takes one – "

"-Muggle relative to let slip to a wizard, I know." Hope sounded more bitter than she intended to. They had taken it to extreme lengths – they'd been dodging their own families for years – but she loved her husband and her son and she wouldn't have traded it for anything. "Sorry," she apologised. "I just…I'm worried about Remus," she blurted out. "I don't want him to live like this forever – having to move from place to place; how is he _ever _going to have a life if he doesn't even know how to interact with people?"

"Er…Mum?"

Hope jumped, her gaze snapping to the door. There was no way of telling how long Remus had been standing there – he somehow possessed the ability to sneak up on people without them ever hearing him.

(It would be one of the things that would delight and be put to good use by his future Gryffindor dorm mates.)

He looked at her now, his green eyes wide and anxious, worrying his lip between his teeth.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Hope asked. She should have been relieved he'd left his room, but now she had a whole new concern: whether he had overheard her fears for the rest of his life. It was not, she thought, something one really wanted their ten year-old to be contemplating.

"I'm…I'm just hungry. Could I have a crumpet, maybe?"

"Sounds like a good idea to me," said Lyall, as Hope stood up and went to get the crumpets from the bread bin. "We could play Gobstones if you like, son?"

Remus worried his lip some more. Then, with a little nod, he'd disappeared up the stairs to fetch the Gobstones set. Relieved at this willingness to spend time with the family, Hope could not even bring herself to complain that she would have to wash the foul-smelling liquid from their clothes later. She shared a small smile with her husband before she opened the packet of crumpets and began to arrange them on a grill pan.

"Why don't you get the fire started?" she suggested. "The living room's so cold at the moment."

"Good idea."

But as Lyall was about to leave the kitchen, a loud and determined knock sounded at the door.

Hope and Lyall shared a look. Since moving to Trebanog, they had made no real effort to make friends, keeping themselves to themselves, and they did not live in one of the terraced houses, but a little way out of the village. It was not likely, therefore, to be someone asking to borrow butter.

Another knock.

"You stay here," said Lyall, and Hope saw his hand move to his pocket, where he kept his wand. He darted out of the room. Hope clicked her tongue, removed her apron and followed him. But when she got into the hall, she found her husband with his back flat against the front door, his eyes wide and his face pale. Hope stopped dead.

"What, Lyall? What is it?"

"_Shhh_," he hissed. "He'll hear you!"

"_Who?"_

"Albus Dumbledore!" It came out almost as a moan.

"_Who?"_

"The Headmaster of Hogwarts." It wasn't Lyall who had spoken, but Remus, who was standing midway down the stairs, holding the set of Gobstones, his eyes fixed on the door. Lyall blinked.

"How do you – "

Another knock – louder this time. And an amused voice, full of warmth, as Hope fought to keep up with what was going on.

"I must say, Lyall, I've had better welcomes."

It seemed to spur Lyall back into action. "He must have found out! He's here to confirm it….Hope, get the chair from the kitchen; we'll block the door."

"I think it will take more than a kitchen chair to keep Albus Dumbledore out," said Remus quietly as Hope returned with the chair.

"Remus, in the living room!" Lyall ordered, his usually calm demeanour obviously rattled. He took the chair from Hope as Remus jumped down the last few stairs and ran past Hope, back towards the kitchen and into the living room. Jamming the chair under the door handle, Lyall stepped back, obviously satisfied. "That ought to do it."

"I thought you said that wizards can – "

"You're right!" Lyall was beside himself. "I'll have to put reinforcements on the door. Stand back." Hope watched apprehensively as he waved his wand, a little thrill going down her spine, still fascinated and impressed by Lyall's abilities with what was, by all appearances, a wooden stick.

She just hoped whatever he was about to do with the door would work. They'd tried _so hard _to keep Remus hidden.

But just as he opened his mouth, Lyall stopped up short and whipped around to look at her. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Hope asked, but even as she said it, she heard what he meant: the sound of voices from the living room.

Hearts hammering, Lyall and Hope Lupin took one another by the hand and edged down the hallway and into their sitting room.

The fire was burning brightly – despite the fact Lyall had never got around to lighting it – and it spread warmth into the room, making Hope shiver as her cold fingers adjusted to this new heat. But that was not what caught her attention.

Sitting before the fire, opposite Remus with the Gobstones board between them, sat the most eccentric person Hope had ever laid eyes on. He appeared old – very old, with a long white beard that reached past his knees as he leaned over to consider his move. Half-moon spectacles sat on the edge of his long, crooked nose. And he was dressed entirely in purple – from the tall, pointed hat on his head, down to the shoes that peeked out of the edge of his robes. Remus looked completely mesmerised.

Lyall made a strangled noise in his throat. This appeared to capture the man's attention and he looked round.

"Mr and Mrs Lupin!" he said cheerfully. "I hope you don't mind: I saw the crumpets in the kitchen, and I simply couldn't resist." He raised a plate, on which were two buttered crumpets, perfectly grilled. Remus was grinning behind him, chewing through his own plate of crumpets. Hope blinked. She might have pointed out that she hadn't even put the grill on – but she had never seen anyone who looked more like a wizard, and she could guess perfectly well how he'd grilled the crumpets so quickly.

"Dumbledore!" Lyall had finally found his voice, though his tone trod a fine line between fright and anger. "I must ask you to leave!"

"Now, really, Lyall, I would have expected more from a former Prefect." Albus Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and, scared as she might have been, Hope could not help trusting this man.

"How did you get in?" Lyall demanded.

"I generally think if you want to keep intruders out, it's sensible to lock _all _the doors," said Dumbledore, directing a wink at Remus, who giggled.

"What are you doing here, Dumbledore?" Lyall was clearly not in the mood to be polite. "Barging in here…eating our food and playing with our son…"

"Ah yes, Remus." Dumbledore smiled. "It was Remus I was here to discuss, actually."

Lyall let out another strangled noise, as he and Hope shared a fearful look.

"What-what about Remus?" Hope was the first to find her voice.

"Mrs Lupin, I know perfectly well of Remus's condition," said Dumbledore calmly. As Hope let out a squeak, Remus's eyes widened dramatically. "No need to look so frightened, dear boy," said Dumbledore. "Lycanthropy's nothing to be ashamed of." Remus, who had looked ready to bolt from the room, blinked and his whole body relaxed: Hope could not help warming to this wizard who, whilst just announcing he knew all about her son's lycanthropy, had managed to put Remus totally at ease.

"How dare you," Lyall snarled, and Hope put a warning hand on his arm. Something told her that the Hogwarts Headmaster meant no harm. But Lyall shook her off. "How? How do you know?"

"I have my sources," said Dumbledore calmly. "Fenrir Greyback has not been shy about boasting of his actions amongst his pack."

Lyall shot a quick look at Remus, who had sat up very straight. "You…you know who bit me?" he demanded, his young voice indignant.

Dumbledore seemed to realise his mistake immediately. "Perhaps your parents did not know, Remus," he said. "But Fenrir Greyback claims the credit for biting you, yes."

Hope Lupin knew perfectly well the name of her son's attacker. Lyall still muttered it in his dreams. She knew, later, she and her husband would have to agree on what they were going to tell their son about it.

"Who else knows?" Lyall demanded. Dumbledore sighed.

"Won't you sit down, both of you?" He waved his wand and the sofa drew closer to the fire. Hesitantly, Hope took a seat. Lyall looked like he was going to remain standing. She pulled him down next to her with a jerk of her hand: it wasn't wise to insult someone who knew about Remus. "Tea?" Before Hope could answer, there was a steaming teacup in her hand.

"Now," said Dumbledore. "I have no reason to think that anyone outside of Greyback's pack knows of Remus's condition. But the state of general knowledge is not what I am here to discuss."

"It…it isn't?" Hope asked.

"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "I am here to discuss Remus's education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Silence. Then Hope broke in.

"It's all right," she said quickly, "Mr Dumbledore. We've already explained to Remus that he won't be going to Hogwarts. This really isn't necessary."

She hated the way Remus's face closed up immediately – loathed herself for it. But she knew Dumbledore's presence would only make it worse: Remus did not need it spelt out in excruciating detail why he could never attend school like a normal wizard.

"Mrs Lupin, I think you've misunderstood me," said Dumbledore. "I am here to offer Remus a place at Hogwarts."

Another beat of silence. It was Lyall's turn to break it.

"Dumbledore," he hissed. "You know what he is…you know he can't…it's just cruel getting his hopes up – "

"Perhaps I should explain," Dumbledore interrupted.

And so he did. He told the Lupins how he had arranged to have a tunnel constructed, leading to a comfortable house on the edge of Hogsmeade village, near to the school, where Remus could be taken once a month to complete his transformation. A Whomping Willow – a particularly violent tree, Hope was informed – would be planted over the entrance of the tunnel to dissuade the more curious students from finding it. Remus and the other students would be perfectly safe.

"Naturally, not everyone in the wizarding world is as well-disposed towards werewolves as perhaps they should be," said Dumbledore. "For that reason, I think it best for Remus's own welfare that his condition – nor the existence of the tunnel – not be broadcasted."

"He'll…he'll have to miss school, though," said Hope faintly. All three Lupins had been quiet throughout Dumbledore's explanation. "He's always ill for a few days."

"I'll manage!" said Remus. His face had shone with hope from the moment Dumbledore had started speaking. "I'll work extra hard to catch up!" Dumbledore smiled.

"Indeed. I've no doubt excuses can be made – perhaps an ill relative that requires visiting." He looked over his half-moon glasses. "Mr and Mrs Lupin, I hope you agree with me that Remus appears a talented and likeable child: he should be encouraged to lead as normal a life as possible."

"H-have you ever done this before, Dumbledore?" Lyall asked. It was the first time he had spoken in some time.

"No," Dumbledore admitted. "Consider it an experiment, if you will. But I have no doubt that if you impress the utmost importance of discretion on Remus, there is no reason why this should not work and Remus should not attend school like every other young wizard."

"Of _course _I'll be quiet – I won't tell _anyone – please _can I go, Mum and Dad?"

Remus Lupin was not in the habit of asking for very much; he had never been a demanding child. Lyall and Hope would have had to be very hard-hearted individuals to deny him on this occasion, and neither of them were.

"I suppose you can go," said Lyall uncertainly, sharing a quick look with his wife. "But you'll have to be very careful. You might have to lie to people. It's very important that _no one _finds out."

And that, indeed, was what all parties intended to happen.

* * *

It was perhaps unfortunate, in that case, that Remus happened to befriend two of the cleverest and most curious boys Hogwarts had ever seen. When he looked back on it later, he wondered how on earth he had managed to keep his secret from them for fifteen months.

But when Remus Lupin entered the second-year boys' dorm in Gryffindor Tower on 21st January 1973, precisely three days after the full moon that month, he could not have known that the secret the Headmaster and his parents had impressed upon him must be _kept secret_ had already been discovered.

He did realise straight away, however, just how terrible his friends were at behaving casually.

When he arrived in the dormitory, he found James Potter lying sideways on his bed, holding _Potions Today_ (as if James would be caught dead reading an academic journal). Sirius Black almost looked like he wasn't even trying to pretend: he had adopted the same pose as James, but he didn't have anything to do; he just looked like he was _waiting _for something. Peter Pettigrew had done the best job, as he did appear to be genuinely attempting some homework, but unfortunately his gaze kept darting at James and Sirius in a way that raised Remus's suspicions instantly.

"All right, what did you do?" Remus asked with a small smile. All three heads snapped round to look at him; James threw down _Potions Today_ and almost leaped off his bed.

"Remus, you're back!" He beamed, and Remus resisted the urge to take a step backwards at this unexplained enthusiasm. Then again, James was a very enthusiastic individual. It still stunned Remus that James Potter – popular, fun and relentlessly cheerful – actually wanted to be friends with him.

"Er…yeah," he said carefully. "Aunt's a bit better. Any particular reason you're so pleased to see me?"

"No reason." James sounded _far _too innocent for Remus's liking. And, somewhat to Remus's disconcertion, James leaned around him and pushed the door closed with one hand. Remus raised his eyebrows.

"Got a prank planned, have you?"

"Actually," said James, "there was something we wanted to talk to you about."

"Yeah?" Remus kept his face deliberately blank, but his heart gave an uncomfortable jump. He didn't know why he felt so nervous. They weren't going to talk to him about _that. _He'd been careful. Hadn't he? Dear God, it _was _his aunt he'd said was ill, wasn't it? "What's that, then?"

"Well, the thing is," Sirius started from his position on his bed. "We sort of noticed that you're away a lot."

Oh. Oh _dear. _They _were _going to talk to him about that. Remus had to force himself to hold his ground and not yank the door open and sprint all the way to the lake. _He'd been careful. _"Yeah. When I saw my aunt," he fervently hoped it _was _his aunt that was supposed to be ill, "the Healers were actually saying that they think there's something in our family's – "

"Oh, Lupin. We really are going to have to teach you to lie more convincingly."

James's smile was easy, but Remus's blood ran cold.

"What-what do you mean?" he asked, trying not to let his voice rise in panic. "My aunt – "

"Died last month," Peter cut in. "Remember?"

"I have more than one aunt," Remus defended. He was greeted with three disbelieving expressions, though he could have sworn Peter muttered, "Told you so." His heartbeat was now fluttering in his throat; he thought he might throw up. "It's true – "

"Look, Remus," James interrupted, his arm around Remus's shoulders conspiratorially. "_We know."_

"Know what?" Remus's voice came out slightly strangled.

"That you're a werewolf," said James briskly.

_A werewolf_.

_Werewolf._

The word hung in the air – a reminder of what he was; a reminder that this had all been too good to be true. It occurred to Remus that if James hadn't had his arm around him, his legs might have collapsed from underneath him. The room spun. He took a steadying breath.

"How dare you?" he asked. He'd intended to sound angry, but his voice came out sounding rather more frightened instead and he hated himself for not being a better actor. Dumbledore, for all his carefully laid plans, had never banked on his inability to lie to his friends properly.

James and Peter blinked back at him, clearly bemused at this ineffectual attempt at a denial, but Sirius suddenly sat up, his eyes narrowing.

"How dare _we?_" he said. "_You're _the one who's been lying to us, Lupin!"

His voice sounded so cold that all Remus could think was: _it's starting. _He opened his mouth to make another stab at a denial, but his throat was suddenly so tight he found he couldn't speak. He'd known all along this might happen – he'd even spoken to his parents about it, and they had been clear: if anyone found out, it would mean the end of his time at Hogwarts. No one would willingly sit in class with a werewolf.

"_Mother's _ill; aunt's ill; aunt's _died_; grandmother's died…Merlin, how thick do you think we are?"

It was too much. Letting out a low moan, Remus suddenly bolted towards the door, but James – always so ruddy _nimble_ – had thrown himself flat against it before he'd taken two steps.

"Oh, no you don't," he said. "We're not _that _annoyed about the lying. Though we will have to help you come up with some better stories; yours are crap."

Remus could only blink, his heart hammering so painfully he could make no sense of James's words. There was a rushing sound in his ears.

"You look like you need to sit down, mate," said James.

Merlin, did Remus need to sit down. He allowed James to guide him to his bed – mostly because he didn't think he could walk by himself. All he could think was: _they know. They know. _A year and a half of more happiness than Remus thought he'd ever be privileged to, and it was about to come to an abrupt end.

He was going to have to pack his bag – probably that very night – but just then, his body felt too heavy to stand, the weight of this revelation bearing down on him.

"H-how did you find out?" he asked faintly.

"Your grandmother's died four times," said Peter. He'd shifted his position so he was sitting on the end of his bed too, holding one of the banisters of his four-poster with one hand.

"That and you always looked sick just before your visits home – coincidentally always around the full moon." James was grinning like they were discussing a particularly brilliant prank. Remus stared at him.

"Don't you _mind?"_ he burst out.

It was James's turn to stare. "Why would we _mind?_ It's the coolest thing I've ever heard! Sharing my dormitory with a werewolf!"

The word made Remus's stomach clench painfully, but he was breathing very fast as he looked wildly between his three dorm mates. "_Cool?"_ he spluttered. "I'm going to have to leave! You won't…your parents won't want you sharing with a….with a…."

"Werewolf?" Sirius supplied. "We weren't going to tell our _parents_, mate – what a daft idea. Have you _met _my mother?"

Remus couldn't even manage a smile. He'd only met Sirius's mother once, at the end of the previous year on Platform 9 ¾. The first thing she had asked for was his surname and, upon hearing it, had looked at him like he was something nasty she'd found on the bottom of her shoe. Sirius had been quick to explain, red-faced and embarrassed, that his mother only talked to people from certain families.

"But don't _you _mind?" he asked again.

"Of course not!" James said. "We told you: we think it's brilliant. I don't know anyone who has a werewolf for a best friend!"

"There's a reason for that," said Remus weakly, but James was still grinning from ear to ear. Remus could only continue staring at him. For all his cleverness, didn't James _understand? _"I'm…I'm a monster," he said, and hated how his voice cracked. Suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to vomit, he lurched from the bed, but James pushed him back down.

"Last time I checked, monsters didn't let me copy their Charms homework."

"You don't understand," Remus moaned, covering his face with his hands. "I…you've never seen a werewolf transformed. I _am _a monster. Last summer my dad had to build a… a reinforced steel shed in the garden because I could break down the door of the cellar _whatever _spells he used. And do you know how we found that out?" Now that he'd started, it was as though he couldn't stop. "Because during the July full moon, I broke through the door and nearly killed my mother."

This was enough to wipe the smile abruptly from James's face, and Remus thought, then, that he'd blown it – that tomorrow morning he'd be on the Hogwarts Express back home. He couldn't look at any of his friends. He buried his face back into his hands, breathing hard.

It was Sirius who spoke. "Er…we won't be joining you at the full moon, then?"

"_What?"_ Remus's head jerked up to stare at his friend. "Are you _mad?"_

Sirius shrugged in that indifferent way only Sirius Black could manage. "Dunno. Seemed like a cool idea. Never seen a werewolf before."

As Remus gaped, James seemed to take up this idea with his classic enthusiasm. "There must be _some _way we can be with you!"

"No. _No!"_ Remus jumped up, staring in bewilderment at his friends. James and Sirius were grinning again; Peter alone looked taken aback at his reaction. _At least _one _person in this dormitory's sane_, Remus thought. He took another steadying breath. "Don't you _understand? _I'm…I'm not _myself _during the full moon. I'd kill you in a heartbeat. I…I…" Lost for words, he ripped open his shirt and displayed the long, red, still-healing gouges in his chest. Madam Pomfrey couldn't do much about them: they were cursed wounds, after all, though they would fade somewhat over time. Sirius's and James's faces fell faster than a bezoar in a potion.

"What…_what the hell is that?"_ James demanded, as Sirius grimaced and Peter covered his eyes.

"I don't have human prey. Dumbledore set up a house on the edge of Hogsmeade to keep me shut away," said Remus, breathing hard. "So I…I bite and scratch myself instead. I can't…I can't control it; it just happens."

"That…that looks like it _hurt_," said Peter faintly.

"It did," Remus snapped. "And I'd do it to all of you, given half the chance. I wouldn't be able to help myself." He pulled his shirt back across his chest again protectively. "_Now _maybe you understand why the entire wizarding world hates werewolves! _Why _I lied!"

James was still staring at the wounds, his face pale. Finally his gaze flickered up to meet Remus's, and Remus was sure that he was going to say that he couldn't be friends with him after all, that this wasn't something he wanted to deal with. He should have known better.

"We won't tell anyone," said James, and Remus had never seen him so serious. "_No one_. And we'll find a way to help you. There's gotto be something_._"

Remus's throat had gone very tight, so that he didn't have the strength to tell James, again, that there was no way to help him. But he managed to say: "Really. This isn't a joke. _No one _can know. I'll be expelled."

"The teachers know, though, right?" asked Peter. Remus nodded. James didn't appear to care too much about that.

"You're our friend, Remus," he said. "We're not going to tell anyone. Right, lads?" He looked over his shoulder to Sirius and Peter for confirmation, who both nodded.

"A pact!" Sirius suggested. "An Unbreakable Vow!"

"Brilliant!" said James, pulling out his wand. There was a brief pause, before: "Er…I don't actually know how to do one. Do you?"

Remus might have laughed if he hadn't felt so shaky.

"An ordinary vow, then," said Sirius. "I vow I will keep Remus's secret for as long as I live."

"Seconded," said James.

"I promise too," said Peter.

Remus was silent, his erratic heartbeat gradually slowing as he looked from Peter's wide eyes, to Sirius's unusually solemn expression, to the determination in James's gaze. He couldn't quite believe how easily they'd accepted the truth: how the three of them were still in the dormitory, looking at him no differently than they had when he'd left to go to the Hospital Wing four days ago.

The secret was safe, for now, and Remus would never stop being thankful for the way they'd accepted him.

He'd think later that he should have realised that it was too good to last. Though they were his friends, they were still teenage boys and everyone knew that teenagers had a tendency to act rather than think; go to war first, ask questions later. Particularly these boys, for whom recklessness was practically their middle name.

It should not have been surprising, really, that it spiralled so drastically out of control.

At least it took another three years to do so.

* * *

**A/N: **I love reading people's reviews and I can't tell you what a difference it makes in motivating me to update. So please take a few seconds to tell me what you think.


	2. Signs of Strife

**Disclaimer: **All rights to characters, places, objects and concepts you recognise belong to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

**Chapter One: Signs of Strife**

**17****th**** March 1976**

The sun refused to creep over the hill that morning. Instead the clouds hung ominously over the castle, making the rippling lake below appear a stormy grey. It was symptomatic of what had been a long and drawn-out winter. Even in the early hours of that mid-March morning, frost crystals were settled over the lawns, twinkling as three boys staggered up the path towards the castle, too exhilarated to be bothered by the fact they were absent from their House Tower out of hours.

"That was _brilliant!"_ A lanky boy reached the castle first, but he didn't go in, instead turning around to lean against the big oak door and grin at his two friends. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, but almost instantly they slipped again, slick with the dirt and sweat on his face. This didn't bother him much. He generally adjusted his glasses out of habit rather than because he needed to, a tic that had developed over the last two years, since his mother had put her foot down and insisted he visit an Opti-Wizard.

"_Excellent, _wasn't it? What did I tell you?" The taller of his two companions – a handsome boy who somehow managed to look elegant despite his dishevelled appearance – caught up with him, bending over to catch his breath. He straightened up as the other boy reached them. "All right, Wormtail?"

The short, plump boy flushed, evidently still pleased with the fact he had a nickname. "Fantastic!" he said. "Much better than last time!"

They all grimaced slightly at the thought of the last time – the first time – they had done this: ventured out at full moon. They had not been so exhilarated and pleased with themselves then. They had staggered straight up to the Gryffindor Tower without a pause, too shell-shocked to speak for almost a full hour.

The sound of footsteps echoing behind the oak door alerted them to someone's presence: the lanky boy sprang away from the steps and they ducked behind a large bush a second before a woman dressed in a matron's uniform emerged, carrying a small bag and walking with small, purposeful strides in the direction the boys had recently come from. They held their breath, watching her approach a huge tree which was angrily waving its branches, in spite of the lack of wind. She picked up a long stick from the ground and seemingly prodded the trunk. The tree stopped thrashing immediately: a second later, she had disappeared below it.

"_That's _why we had to run, Wormtail," said the lanky boy as they straightened up.

The shorter boy frowned. "All right for you, Prongs," he said. "_You're _on the Quidditch team! But me and Padfoot – "

"_Padfoot and I_," 'Prongs' corrected with a grin as their companion gave an indignant yelp.

"Don't drag _me _into your complaints about being unfit!" he said. "I'm in _much_ better shape than Prongs!"

"Yeah?" said Prongs with a sly grin. "Then why don't we – "

"_No,_ guys," said Wormtail, getting between the two taller boys. "If you have a race _now _you're bound to draw attention to us! I, for one, would like to get through this without getting detention…or a prison sentence!"

"He's right," Prongs conceded regretfully, as the handsome boy muttered something about 'wimpy Quidditch players'. Prongs threw an arm around his shoulders with a grin. "Don't worry, Padfoot, I'm sure we'll be able to race tomorrow…er, later today. And I'm going to _crush_ you."

'Padfoot' snorted, shrugging off his friend's arm. "As if, you skinny git. C'mon, let's get up to the Tower. I'm dying to get all this werewolf grime off me."

"Sure it's werewolf grime and not your own slobber, Padfoot?" Prongs said with a smirk as they opened the oak door to the castle. Padfoot scowled as Wormtail sniggered.

"Better a dog than some _deer_ that prances around like there's a stick up his backside," said Padfoot, grinning as Prongs drew himself up in indignation.

"I'm not a _deer!"_ he cried, so loudly that Wormtail and Padfoot, through their laughter, had to shush him. "I'm a _stag,"_ he continued in a whisper. "A regal, majestic, _noble – "_

"Ponce?" Padfoot suggested with another snigger.

But Prongs was no longer listening. As they were about to climb the stairs from the Entrance Hall, he had whipped around very fast, his wand out, his hazel eyes searching the empty space.

"What?" said Padfoot impatiently.

Prongs frowned, his gaze still scanning the hall. He'd been _sure_ he'd heard something… But there was nothing now. Only silence.

"Come _on, _Prongs," said Padfoot, as Wormtail looked on, eyes wide.

Prongs was about to turn away and continue up the stairs. But something stopped him. Since becoming an Animagus, his senses had got better, more refined, more alert. He was still learning to trust them. Instead of following his friends, he stepped back off the stairs and moved towards the cupboard standing in the Entrance Hall.

"_Prongs,"_ Padfoot hissed. "It's probably Mrs Bennet. She'll have run off to get Filch. Let's move."

Prongs ignored him, not especially concerned about a heavily pregnant cat. Wand still out, he crept towards the cupboard, only dimly aware that his friends were following him. He paused outside the cupboard and, releasing the catch with a deft hand, pulled the door open, wand pointing straight between the two black eyes that stared back at him.

"_Snivellus,"_ he said coolly. "I should have guessed."

"_That_ greasy git?" Padfoot was at Prongs's shoulder. "_Expelliarmus,"_ he said as the scrawny boy in the cupboard reached into his pocket. His beetle-like eyes were fixed on them, his features twisted with loathing in a way that emphasised his hook nose.

"Spying on us again, Snape?" Prongs said, not bothering to mask his contempt. "That'd make…what, the fourth time this month?"

"I'll get you for this!" he spat furiously. "I saw you go out…you've been gone _hours_ …"

"You've really been here _all night? _Merlin, you really are pathetic, aren't you?" Prongs's eyebrows were arched in disbelief. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"He could've spent that time washing his hair," said Padfoot, nudging Wormtail, who had sidled up next to him. They both sniggered.

"I'll get you all expelled!" Snape squawked. "Don't think I don't know what you've been up to – "

"You couldn't begin to dream, Snivellus," said Prongs coolly, still pointing his wand at the boy.

"Then where's your friend Lupin? Wasn't it a full moon last night?" Snape's face twisted in a satisfied expression as Wormtail let out a squeak. Prongs remained very still, aware that Snape was watching him carefully for any signs of a reaction.

"Remus's mother's ill, you greasy idiot," he said. "If you're insinuating he's a…what, a werewolf? Listen to yourself, Snape – we'd have to be suicidal to go running round with a werewolf on full moon, wouldn't we?" He held Snape's gaze defiantly, daring the boy to challenge him.

"Well, I'm sure Dumbledore will be very interested to know you were out of bed all night," began Snape.

"He would be, I'm sure, if anyone was going to tell him. But, honestly, Snape, I've had enough detentions because of you. _Petrificus Totalus_." Prongs flicked his wand and suddenly the boy in front of them – Snape – was rigid as a board, his face permanently frozen into an expression of pure hatred. Prongs turned to his friends. "I think we'll leave him here, don't you?"

"Absolutely. Make sure you lock the door," said Padfoot viciously, eying the rigid boy in front of them.

"Obviously. And better yet…_Levicorpus."_ Prongs flicked his wand again and Snape was hanging upside down by one ankle, still stiff as a board. "Better hope someone finds you soon, Snivellus," he said cheerfully. "I've heard it's bad for you to hang upside down for too long."

If Snape could have spat nails, he undoubtedly would have done: his black eyes were so full of loathing that it would have made more cowardly boys flinch. All Prongs did was smirk and shut the cupboard door.

"_Colloportus,"_ he said. There was a satisfying click as the door locked.

"Prongs!" Wormtail burst out almost instantly. His voice held a distinct note of panic. "He kn – "

"Shut _up, _Wormtail," Prongs and Padfoot hissed together.

"Let's just get up to the dormitory without any more incidents, shall we?" said Prongs wearily. He pocketed his wand and, without looking back, took the stairs two at a time. Wormtail and Padfoot – whatever Padfoot might insist – fought to keep up with him all the way up to Gryffindor Tower. Skinny though he might be, Prongs was Gryffindor's best Chaser and he took it seriously: early morning runs around the Lake were a standard practice for him. Padfoot, blessed with naturally good physique but a lazy demeanour, and Wormtail, born with an innate dislike of exercise, couldn't hope to beat him, especially when he set his mind on something.

Not even being out of breath would stem Wormtail's panic, however.

"He _knows!"_ the boy cried out as soon as they had got to their dormitory. He was wheezing but the urgency in his voice was clear enough.

"Do you want to wake the whole bloody Tower, Peter?" Padfoot snapped, his use of Wormtail's real name betraying his unease. He pushed the door with one hand and it closed with a click. The three of them stared at one another for a moment.

"He's going to blab," said Padfoot. This boy, too, had a different name, though 'Sirius Black' was hardly any more normal than his unusual nickname. As a general rule he appeared the most indifferent person in the school, having perfected an air of affected boredom, but at this moment even his voice was low with concern. He shoved his hands in his pockets, as if this would somehow rescue him from appearing nervous.

Prongs – whose real name was James Potter – was the only one who remained calm, his eyebrows lifting slightly at this unusual behaviour from his friends. "About our little excursion last night?" he said coolly. "Who cares? The teachers aren't just going to take his word for it." He pushed his glasses up his nose again.

"Not _that, _you idiot," said Sirius, as Peter said, "About _Remus! About us!"_

"Oh, come _on,"_ said James, one hand reaching up to mess up his hair at the back. He grimaced slightly as he felt how dirty his hair was. "Of course he doesn't _know. _He's taking a wild guess. He's got no way of proving it. And he definitely doesn't know about us."

Sirius's feeling about this confidence was written all over his face. "James, we've got to find a way of shutting him up."

James arched his eyebrow again. "We can't, Sirius," he said calmly.

"What do you mean?" Sirius's grey eyes were wide in disbelief. "We've got to! He'll tell the whole school!"

"_No, he won't,"_ said James firmly. He raked a hand through his hair, his mind wandering back to the greasy Slytherin locked up in the cupboard downstairs. "You don't understand him like I do. He won't risk embarrassing himself till he's confirmed it. And if we react to it – _we're confirming it_. All right? So let's just leave it." As if to signal the conversation was over, he began undressing, pulling his jumper over his head and unbuttoning his shirt. He paused in front of the mirror to examine the new red scratches on his shoulder – they were long and angry-looking. They made him look cool, he decided. But they _hurt._

"Remus isn't going to like this," Sirius warned.

"Obviously we're not telling him." James waved his hand with an air of dismissal. "No point getting him all worked up, is there? Here, Wormtail – think you can toss me some of Moony's healing cream?"

The shorter boy scrambled under Remus's bed for a few seconds before emerging with a round pot, which he threw to James. James caught it with one hand, unscrewed it and, shrugging off his shirt properly, started to apply it to his scratches.

"Much better than last time, wasn't it?" he said cheerfully. "We didn't get mauled _once_…was like he recognised us from before! Much calmer. I really think we'll be able to leave the Shack next time."

Sirius said nothing. Instead, he sat on the edge of his bed, head bowed as he watched James in silence. James seemed to sense he was still bothered by their previous topic of conversation. Closing up the pot of cream and throwing it onto Remus's neatly made bed, he turned to Sirius.

"Don't worry," he said. "Honestly. Snape can guess all he likes but he's not ever going to get it confirmed, is he?"

"He won't leave us alone," Sirius insisted. "What if he catches us sneaking out again?"

"Then we'll just have to take care of him," said James calmly. "Honestly, what _is_ it with you? It's _Snivellus._ He's not exactly Unmentionable mastermind, is he?"

It was enough to pull at the corners of Sirius's mouth; and this was sufficient to tell James he'd got round his friend. He grinned, pulling his towel down from the stand and throwing it over his shoulder.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist over _Snivellus_, Padfoot," he advised and, starting up a cheerful whistle, disappeared into their shared bathroom.

Sirius and Peter were left in silence. Sirius stared at the locked bathroom door, mildly irritated by James's parting shot. He wasn't _getting his knickers in a twist_; he was just sick of that greasy git watching their every move…

"You're still worried, aren't you?" Peter said eventually, perching on the edge of his bed.

"No," Sirius lied, because he'd never confide in Peter over his best friend James. He affected his favoured air of indifference. "Course not. No need to be worried. Like Prongs said, it's just Snape. You're such a _worrier_, Wormtail."

"No, I'm not!" Peter protested.

"Yeah, you are," said Sirius with a grin. "But it's all right. You and Remus are supposed to keep me and James in check, yeah?"

"Yeah," said Peter, apparently relieved that he had been given some important role. "Yeah, that's right."

"Bloody git better not take too long in the shower," Sirius grumbled. "I'm shattered." Naturally his tone had a well-honed note of entitlement and complaint to it, but he didn't really mean it. It was to cover up the concern that remained – the unsettled feeling he couldn't quite shake that Snape presented a real threat to them: that Snape would not rest until he'd exposed them.

He voiced none of this. Not to Peter, who fell asleep before he could even get in the bathroom, nor to James, who emerged from the shower still in an infectiously good mood. He certainly didn't mention it when they visited the Hospital Wing the following day to see Remus, who was wearing a hopeful smile with shining eyes and fewer injuries than ever before.

He did not, however, push it to the back of his mind. Although at that moment he tried to tell himself that James was probably correct – that Snape was only making vague guesses and would not act without confirmation – he knew even then that he was not entirely convinced. Sirius was suspicious of anyone who wasn't straightforward; people who were not straightforward were not predictable.

And, in Sirius's mind, that made them very dangerous indeed.

* * *

For a Gryffindor to be friends with a Slytherin was a rare thing indeed.

It had become an even rarer occurrence over the last few years: members of the two Houses were more likely to be seen hexing than befriending one another. Lily Evans, however, was not one of those people who worried about what everyone else was doing. Much to the bemusement of most of her year, ever since she had arrived at Hogwarts, the short, red-haired Lily Evans – popular, friendly, who could have been friends with anyone – could often be seen shadowed by a lanky figure with a hook nose and long black hair, dressed in the colours of Slytherin House.

This morning was not one of those days.

Lily arrived alone in the Great Hall forty minutes before classes started. She stood still for a second, surveying the students, trying to pick out her friend, but he was conspicuously absent. Her lips pursed as she saw the fifth year Slytherins staring at her and sniggering. They knew whom she was looking for. They probably knew where Severus was; perhaps they'd even engineered it so that the two of them could not have breakfast together as they'd planned. Lily was becoming very suspicious of Severus's friends from Slytherin. She saw less and less of him: he spent much more time in the company of his House mates. Lily, too, had her own friends – just this morning she'd left Alice the daunting task of raising Marlene from bed – and she didn't resent Severus that, but something about _his _friends made her skin crawl.

With a disappointed sigh, she took a place at her own House table. It was conspicuously devoid of fifth years, but Lily knew Alice and Marlene would be down soon, and so she pulled a basket of crumpets towards her, opened her Transfiguration textbook in preparation for her class that day, and began reading and eating. Not long afterwards, the Hall began to fill up, and after a short while Alice was sitting down next to her, while Marlene collapsed into a seat opposite.

"Thought you were meeting Snape," said Marlene by way of greeting, before she let out a loud yelp – provoked, Lily could only guess, by a sharp kick from Alice under the table.

"I thought I was," she said gloomily, closing her book and pouring some more tea. "But he hasn't even turned up to breakfast."

"Maybe he's avoiding you," Marlene suggested. The way she jumped sharply suggested she had earned herself another reprimand from Alice; her blue eyes narrowed in a glare at the mousy-haired girl sitting next to Lily.

"It would be weird if he was," said Lily. "We've argued plenty of times before and _he's _usually the one begging to make it up with me!"

"He's probably just overslept," Alice advised kindly. "I bet you see him later and he's really apologetic."

Lily hoped so. But she couldn't be sure. Their argument had been two full days ago – the longest they'd ever gone without speaking – and, although it had been a rehash of now-familiar themes, Lily had the sense they'd strayed into previously unchartered territory. He'd sneered at her friends and, finally fed up with it, Lily had lashed out too, telling Severus in no uncertain terms what she thought of _his _friends and their fascination with the Dark Arts. That had got Severus going – quick to defend, Lily thought with some dejection, his friends' fondness for spells that were definitely banned on school premises (maybe even by the Ministry). She realised now that perhaps she'd gone about it in the wrong way – she'd let it all build up inside her and explode at the last second. Maybe the way to get Severus to listen to her was to keep needling away at him, calmly and persistently. They'd been friends for a long time. He was bound to listen to her eventually.

She'd planned to start this morning, having approached him yesterday to ask if he wanted to have breakfast together. Perhaps he'd sensed what was coming and had decided to avoid her.

"No Snivelly this morning, Evans?"

Distracted from her thoughts and furious, Lily spun around to see the grinning face of James Potter. He was accompanied – as always – by Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. Remus Lupin was nowhere in sight: Potter and Black had told anyone who'd asked yesterday that he'd come down with a mild case of flu.

"Thought you asked him to meet you for a romantic breakfast," Potter continued. He'd been sitting in front of Lily in Ancient Runes yesterday and no doubt had heard Lily's whispering to Severus. "Mind you," said Potter, feigning a look of regret Lily was sure wasn't genuine, "he probably looked in the mirror this morning and realised he hadn't washed his hair for about a year. I don't think we'll see him at least until lunchtime."

Black and Pettigrew chortled appreciatively at this. There was a snigger from Marlene too, but she hastily stifled it at Lily's glare.

"You think you're funny, but you're not," Lily growled. "He's probably just been held up, that's all."

If she had hoped this would shut Potter up, her hopes had been misplaced. Potter burst into laughter. Knowing that most things Potter did were to wind people up, Lily waited patiently for his next dig.

"_Good _one, Evans," he said eventually, wiping his eye of an imaginary tear. "_Held up_ – geddit, Padfoot?"

And before Lily could begin to fathom what this might mean, he wandered down the table accompanied by Black and Pettigrew. They sat down together, still grinning like idiots.

Lily turned back to Alice and Marlene.

"Did you two understand any of that?" she asked.

"I got the bit about Snape's greasy hair – _will you stop kicking me, woman?"_ Marlene snapped at Alice.

"Well, it wasn't funny," said Alice loyally, and Lily felt a rush of gratitude towards her friend: the only one she'd never heard openly criticise Severus, though Lily knew that even she didn't really pretend to understand why Lily and Severus were friends.

"But what did he mean – _held up_?" Lily persisted.

"My guess?" said Alice, licking her yoghurt spoon and pushing it to one side. "They've probably strung Snape up somewhere and left him there."

Alice had always been perceptive, and, indeed, it would not be the first time that Potter and Black had done something of that ilk. Lily gritted her teeth, standing up and pulling out her wand.

"They can't just – "

Almost automatically, it seemed, Alice reached up and pulled her back down.

"Don't play up to them," she said. "They'll let him out before classes start. They're not idiots."

"Aren't they?" Lily grumbled, but she knew Alice was right. Potter and his friends had a knack for getting into trouble, but it was rarely _too _much trouble. Leaving Severus wherever they'd dumped him would only increase their chances of being caught by a teacher.

Sure enough, it was Potter who told her where she might find her friend. As the three boys were passing the girls on the way out of the Great Hall, he turned his head over his shoulder, as though as an afterthought.

"Oh yeah," he said. "If you're looking for Snivelly, I think I saw him…er…_hanging around _in the Entrance Hall?"

The three friends burst into laughter and had sauntered away before Lily had managed to stop spluttering with fury. Ignoring Alice and Marlene's shared anxious expressions, she pushed away the remains of her breakfast, picked up her bag and walked quickly from the Great Hall.

She'd half-expected to find Severus strung up in the middle of the Entrance Hall being laughed at by a crowd of students, but there was no such spectacle: students were moving through the atrium, clutching their books, moving off for their first class of the morning. Lily stopped in the middle of the Entrance Hall and turned on the spot slowly, trying to understand what she'd missed. What had Potter said? _I think I saw him hanging around in the Entrance Hall_. But Severus wasn't here: Lily would have been able to pick his dark hair and sallow features in an instant.

Then Lily's eyes landed on the cupboard.

She took a few hesitant steps forward, aware that if she was wrong, people would wonder if she'd gone absolutely mad – the cupboard usually held a few old brooms and a mop and bucket. But she gritted her teeth and yanked on the cupboard door. It was locked. She pulled out her wand, muttered, "_Alohomora_", and the door swung open.

Severus's upside down form and unusually purple face greeted her. His dark eyes bulged – whether from surprise at seeing Lily or because he'd been hanging upside down for too long wasn't clear. He must have been there for some time, because he wasn't in his school robes but a pair of ill-fitting black trousers and a shirt that had ridden up so it bunched under his chin, revealing the pale skin underneath. Wincing, Lily pulled out her wand and quickly cast the counter-charm. Severus fell down, gasping and spluttering.

"Are you all right?" Lily asked anxiously, helping him to stand.

"Fine!" Severus hissed, yanking his arm away from her and looking around self-consciously.

"It was Potter and Black again, wasn't it?" she demanded. "I'm going to – "

"They were out all night last night!" Severus interrupted. He looked slightly better now, the ugly purple colour fading from his complexion, but he was wheezing as he hunched over, trying to get the words out.

"Who?"

"Potter! Black and Pettigrew too! I saw them! And you _know _what last night was, it was the _full – "_

"Shut _up,"_ Lily hissed, and Severus did, at least, have the good grace to fall silent. Lily looked around and then hastily pulled Severus away from the cupboard and into a small alcove, away from the prying ears of the other students.

"I told you Lupin's a – "

"You've got to stop spying on them, Sev," Lily interrupted before Severus could excitedly convey his theory about Remus Lupin – _again_. "I've _told _you – "

"But they were out _all night! _Professor McGonagall won't like this at all – "

"Severus Snape, you are _not _going to Professor McGonagall!"

Lily's nostrils flared as she stared her friend down. Severus's eyes bulged.

"I've been there for _three hours!"_ he said, so outraged he was almost spluttering. "If you just – they're so – they're –"

Lily regarded him coolly.

"If they'd just done it to pick on you, Sev, I'd have every sympathy," she said, and meant it. Few things made her angrier than the Gryffindor boys' behaviour towards her friend. "But I'm not letting you go to Professor McGonagall just so you can be a snitch."

"But they were out of bed!" said Severus. "All night! They were breaking the rules – "

"So were you," said Lily promptly, and Severus's mouth set into a sullen line. She sighed. "Look, they were totally out of order – "

"You obviously don't really think that." Severus's voice rose sharply. "You're always sticking up for them!"

"You _know _that's not true," said Lily. "I just don't understand why you get so worked up about them – even when they're not doing anything to you! It's like you set out to get them into trouble."

The way that Severus's eyes slid to the floor sent a shiver of disgust down Lily's spine.

"Well, if _that's _your aim," she said, "I've got no sympathy for you whatsoever. You'd better go and get changed. There's only five minutes before class."

Not very long ago – perhaps a mere matter of months – Severus would have tried to grab her arm as she walked away. Lily's eyebrows melded into a frown as she was allowed to catch up with Alice and Marlene without interruption. Maybe he was still angry with her after their previous argument. But it sat uncomfortably with her, that he might care a great deal less about what she thought of him than he ever had before.

"Everything all right?" Marlene asked as she drew closer. Lily shifted her bag further onto her shoulder.

"Fine," she said. "He's fine. Let's just go to Transfiguration."

* * *

Lily felt distracted and bothered all through her first class. She was sat behind Potter, Black and Pettigrew (moved forward permanently for misbehaviour some months before - as if moving them made any difference) and she glared at them without paying much attention to her teacher. The three miscreants didn't seem to notice. Five minutes into the lesson, Peter Pettigrew slumped over onto his desk, evidently fast asleep. Black entertained himself for several minutes by tickling Pettigrew's nose with a quill. Shortly afterwards, however, the elbow he'd been resting on the desk slipped sideways, and his head rolled off his hand and onto his arm, so that he too was snoring softly. Only Potter remained upright, leaning back in his seat. Unusually he actually appeared to be making notes – perhaps he felt some responsibility as the only one of the four friends who was present and conscious. Though the idea of Potter feeling any sort of responsibility was frankly laughable.

In any case, it didn't stop him from messing up his hair every other minute.

_Honestly_, thought Lily. _He probably thinks it makes him look roguish or something – _

And then suddenly the back of Potter's head was replaced with his face as he tilted his chair back on two legs and leaned round to look at her. She blinked and straightened up, moving her gaze quickly to Professor McGonagall, who was demonstrating the correct wand motion for switching spells.

Potter was not to be deterred.

"Did you find him?" he whispered. Lily's eyes slid back to him and she saw, with disgust, that he was grinning.

"If I hadn't," she whispered furiously back, "he'd still be hanging upside down! That's really dangerous, you know – "

"Aww, c'mon, Evans," Potter said with another infuriating grin, "we'd never have left him there all morning – "

"Do you have something you'd like to share with the class, Potter, Evans?"

Lily flushed bright red as she realised everyone's eyes – including Professor McGonagall's beady-eyed glare – were on them. Potter swung his seat back onto on four legs and turned round again as Pettigrew and Black shot bolt upright.

"No, Professor," he said earnestly. "Evans was just telling me how skilfully she thought I played in the last Quidditch match."

"Even if I thought so, I wouldn't dream of telling you, Potter," said Lily in exasperation. Professor McGonagall's lips twitched with the smallest movement, but it did not detract from her formidable glare.

"Detention for both of you," she said. "There are ten weeks until the exams. Don't let me catch you talking again."

"It wasn't Evans's fault, Professor," said Potter immediately.

"If it bothers you, Potter, perhaps next time you might consider not dragging Evans into trouble with you," was all Professor McGonagall had to say, before she resumed her lecture.

Alice and Marlene shot Lily sympathetic glances – it wasn't too often Lily landed herself in detention. _Got landed in detention_, she reminded herself. This wasn't _her _fault. At least Potter had admitted that.

Professor McGonagall held them back after class to arrange their detention.

"It'll be a short one," she said, eying them both over her glasses, "in light of the fact you need the revision time more than a punishment. You'll both report here for one hour on Tuesday evening at 5 o'clock."

An hour. That wasn't too awful. Clearly Potter thought they'd got off lightly too, because as Professor McGonagall gathered up her papers and swept from the room, he turned to Lily and grinned.

"It must be because you're here," he said. "If it had been me and Sirius, we'd have got at least three hours. Probably with Filch."

Lily responded by turning away to pack up her belongings. Potter already had his bag slung over his shoulder, but still he hung back. Lily thought she knew why.

"Sorry I got you into trouble," he said. Lily's head jerked up. That was _not _what she had been expecting. Potter was the sort to breeze through the hallways, generally getting himself and as many other people as possible into trouble as he went. She didn't think she'd ever heard him sound _remorseful_.

"Still," he continued, messing up his hair at the back again and grinning, "at least you'll be in detention with me. I'll keep you entertained."

It had been too much to hope that he was being genuinely decent. Lily rolled her eyes, packed up the last of her things, and swung her bag over her shoulder.

"Evans, wait," Potter said, as she was about to go through the door. Lily turned around, her expression neutral. Potter was rubbing the back of his neck and he suddenly looked awkward.

"I…er…are you going to Hogsmeade next weekend?"

Ah, there it was. This was not, of course, the first time he had asked her about her plans for next weekend, nor the first weekend he had asked about. She'd almost got used to his nervous shuffling – even come to quite enjoy it, because when else did James Potter look so unsure of himself?

The thing was, he'd never actually managed to get past asking her about her plans.

It wasn't that Lily wasn't prepared for it. In fact, rumours had been flying around since October that James Potter fancied Lily Evans. It had seemed like the whole school was holding its breath, waiting for him to ask and for her to accept (because, really, who would turn down James Potter?).

Well, they were all in for a sorry surprise. Because not only was Potter apparently incapable of asking her out, but Lily was _very _prepared to turn him down.

It wasn't that he wasn't good-looking; he was (though all Lily's friends agreed that Sirius was the really handsome one). And he certainly had a lively sense of humour – something which Lily's boyfriends had often conspicuously lacked. But the way he was always looking at her when he did something 'cool', as if he was only doing it to show off, irked her considerably. And, in any case, quite a few of the things he did were, in Lily's opinion, decidedly _not _cool. Including hexing her best friend. And everyone else who happened to annoy him.

"But, you know, Lil," Alice had said one evening in the dorm as they discussed it, propping herself up on her elbows as she lay stomach-down on her bed, "he does seem to _really _fancy you. Maybe if you tell him he's a toerag he'll stop."

So Lily had decided, that night in November whilst discussing it with her friends, that if James Potter asked her out, she would simply take him aside, tell him nicely but firmly that he was an arrogant show-off, and wait to see if it had any effect. If it did, perhaps she'd _consider_ dating him. If not – well, she hadn't lost anything, had she?

The only problem was that Potter didn't ask her out. She'd thought he was going to a few times as they'd come out of classes and he'd hung back, or when he'd come over to her little group in the Common Room. But he'd always ended up saying something else.

"Oi, Evans, you going to the next Hogsmeade weekend?" he'd started the last such exchange, as they came out of Ancient Runes.

Lily had stopped and motioned for her friends to go on without her.

"Yes," she said calmly, watching with no small amount of irritation as he ruffled up his hair at the back. He was nervous, she decided. His hazel eyes darted around as he shuffled his weight from one foot to the other. "Why do you ask?"

There was a lengthy pause, before he straightened up. "Just wondering," he said. "'Spect I'll see you there."

"I expect you will," said Lily, nearly rolling her eyes at this failure of Gryffindor courage, and striding away, leaving him standing in the Charms classroom by himself.

And the time before that, when he'd – unusually – left his gang in the corner of the Gryffindor Common Room and had approached Lily and a large group of Gryffindor girls, who blushed and giggled and nudged Lily in the least subtle way they could manage.

"All right, Evans?"

His tone was nonchalant enough, but the red blush of his neck gave him away. Lily had to suppress a smile.

"I'm all right, Potter," she said. "Are you? You've been out of Black's company for at least fifteen seconds by my count."

A quirk of the lips; amusement in those hazel eyes. But Marlene didn't give him a chance to respond.

"What drags you from the company of your fellow _Marauders_?" Lily's friend laid emphasis on the last word, her tone almost mocking as she referred to the nickname James and his friends had given themselves just that year. James didn't respond. Instead, his eyes were fixed on Lily's. She felt the heat rise up, spreading across her chest and up her neck, the way it always did when she was embarrassed. But she said nothing; waited for him to speak.

It was, at last, he who broke their stare, turning back to Marlene.

"Just heading up to the dormitory to get something, McKinnon."

Marlene, never one to make things easy for anybody – even a boy she had grown up with – refused to let it go: "What?"

But James, who had received perhaps only a quarter of the detentions he really should have done in his time at Hogwarts, was not one to be pinned down easily. He smirked and tapped his nose.

"Sorry, McKinnon," he said. "Top secret Marauder business." He winked and sauntered away, leaving Marlene shaking her blonde curls in disbelief.

Lily hadn't really needed Marlene to point out that James had just wanted to talk to Lily.

So she wasn't optimistic that today he was finally going to summon up the necessary courage. She feigned a nonchalant expression as she adjusted her bag over her shoulder and looked vaguely around the Transfiguration classroom.

"Maybe," she said. "I haven't really decided. Lots of work to do, you know."

"Oh yeah, me too," said Potter. He tried to lean his elbow casually against the blackboard, missed, and staggered a few steps before straightening up. Lily had to bite her tongue to keep herself from laughing. He cleared his throat. "Maybe I'll see you in the library?" he asked hopefully.

"Potter, I'll be surprised if you can even find your wayto the library," said Lily, before she opened the door and stepped out of it. _Merlin. _She'd never seen such a coward. She hurried off down the corridor before he could follow her – funny as Potter's attempts to ask her out were, she'd had quite enough of him already that morning.

Besides, she needed to tell Alice and Marlene about James Potter's latest hilarious attempt before break was over.

* * *

Stumbled.

He'd bloody _stumbled._

James took the steps up to the Hospital Wing two at a time, still annoyed with himself. How could he be so cool and collected usually, and turn into some sort of clumsy, incoherent mess in front of Lily Evans?

_She's just a bird, _he repeated to himself as he climbed the stairs. He'd found himself thinking those words repeatedly as of late – every time he'd tried to work up the nerve to ask her to Hogsmeade. There were hundreds of girls at Hogwarts – and he'd snogged more than a handful without losing his cool demeanour. Something about the Gryffindor redhead, however, transformed him into a babbling idiot.

He strode into the Hospital Wing at full pace, heading for the bed at the end where the curtains were drawn. He could hear familiar voices and, sure enough, when he put his head around the curtain, Sirius and Peter were already there, lounging beside Remus's bed.

"Tell us you made notes during Transfiguration, Prongs," said Sirius lazily. He and Peter were picking at a box of chocolates they'd no doubt claimed to have brought for Remus. "Moony here's doing his nut about the little nap Wormtail and I took."

"Yeah, I've got them." James chucked the stack of parchment onto the bedside table as he slid into the last seat, dumping his bag at his feet as he grinned at his friend lying in bed. "All right, Moony?"

"Pretty good, actually, Prongs." Remus's voice came out hoarse, but he too was grinning, and James couldn't fail to notice how much _better _Remus looked than usual. He looked tired, of course – that was inevitable – but it wasn't unusual to find him with bandaged arms and hands, with thick cream on his face to heal the damage before he went back to class. Now there were a few light scratches down his arms, but nothing noticeable, nothing serious.

"Moony here thinks old Pomfrey's suspicious," said Sirius. He didn't sound in the least bit bothered by this possibility.

"Not exactly," Remus whispered. He couldn't hide his amusement. "She's just a bit…ah…confused. Think she's looking at the lunar charts to see what was wrong with the moon last night."

"Blimey, you make her sound disappointed," said James.

"Probably is, the mad cow," said Sirius. "Adds a bit of excitement to the usual monotony of dishing out Pepper Up potions and fixing up Quidditch accidents…"

They laughed together, before Peter inquired about James's detention.

James shrugged uneasily. The thought of spending an hour with Lily Evans made his stomach feel funny. "Really short. Tuesday at five for an hour."

"Good job she didn't find out what you were talking about, or it'd have been three," said Peter, his mouth full of the chocolate he'd brought up for Remus.

"Making rude suggestions to Lily Evans, were you, Prongs?" Remus teased. James forced a grin, but not before he'd sent a glare at Peter. They'd agreed they _weren't going to tell Remus. _And that included that they'd been caught by Snape as they returned from the Shrieking Shack that morning.

"Yeah, that's right," he said easily. "Telling her exactly what I'd like to do if only I could get up to the girls' dorms…"

* * *

There was one thing that not many people knew about Lily Evans, and that was that she hated Herbology.

It irked her, sometimes, that people just _assumed_ – because she was a Prefect and got on well with all the teachers – she must love every subject. It was widely presumed, for instance, that, given Professor Slughorn's never-ending praise of her, her favourite subject was Potions. In fact, Lily hated the dank, windowless dungeons. She hated even more the humid atmosphere that twenty cauldrons created, making her hair damp and limp, and the way she came away smelling of the worst things imaginable.

Nothing, however, could compare to her hatred of Herbology.

Her mind was focused on this thought as she eyed the fanged geranium in front of her with a degree of savage contempt to rival the flower's fangs. She'd never been keen on Herbology. If she was honest with herself, her dislike probably stemmed in large part from her mother's obsession with all things horticultural, which drove Lily spare. It was also inevitably something to do with the fact that Lily was not the outdoorsy-type: having dirt up to her elbows was not her idea of fun. And looking at the miserable weather outside, it seemed she was also destined to have dirt up to her knees by the time she made it back to the castle.

She was _definitely _dropping Herbology after the O.W.L. exams.

No one, however, looked terribly enthralled by the lesson that day. The rain beat down relentlessly on the roof of Greenhouse Five, forming a sort of rhythmic background to the fifth years' slow repotting exercise. It was the lesson before lunch and everyone seemed devoid of focus. Some of the Ravenclaws were sitting on stools, lazily prodding their geraniums with a stick. The Gryffindors were slightly more reckless: to Lily's left, Potter and Black were daring one another to stick their fingers in the flowers, which were snapping away madly in their direction. Black held up two fingers and Potter, not to be outdone, grinned and shoved his left hand into a large flower. He let out a loud yelp, jumping backwards and pulling his hand away sharply as the flower snapped, but he and Black were already laughing. Lily's lips twitched as she half-heartedly used her trowel to move a handful of dirt into the new pot. At least _someone _was enjoying this stupid subject.

There was suddenly a loud cry quite unlike Potter's exaggerated yelp. Heads snapped around to see Peter Pettigrew's tragic expression as he nursed a bleeding hand. Lacking the quick reflexes of Potter and Black, his attempts to join in their game had not been successful. With a sharp reprimand and a reminder to the rest of the class to hurry their repotting, Professor Sprout sent Pettigrew up to the Hospital Wing.

Pettigrew's expression was one of dejection as he slipped out of the greenhouse by himself and Potter and Black started attempting to feed their geraniums squares of chocolate. It somehow made Remus Lupin's absence more conspicuous. Lily frowned as she studied his empty stool.

"Come _on, _Lily, there's only a few minutes left and I don't want to have to wait for you. I'm _starving_," Alice moaned next to her. Naturally, she had already finished repotting her geranium, and was now sitting on her stool, using her wand tip to dig the dirt out from under her fingernails. Lily grimaced but obliged by speeding up her troweling.

"Merlin's balls, Evans, we'll have graduated by the time you finish at this rate!" Before Lily could stop her friend, Marlene had jabbed her wand at the geranium, which uprooted itself and was haphazardly dumped into the new pot. It was clearly less than happy about this arrangement: worse, its root fangs were now on display and gnashing away madly.

"You can't just _do _that to plants!" Alice stopped cleaning her nails and, throwing an exasperated look at Marlene, leaned over to carefully stroke the stem of the geranium. It stopped biting and gave a small shiver, as if Alice's stroking had calmed it in some way. Gingerly, she picked it up by its thick stem with one hand and, using her other, began filling the new pot with dirt. Lily exchanged a grin with Marlene. Some way or another, Alice always ended up repotting their plants for them. She was easily the best in their year at Herbology.

"Thanks, Alice," Lily said brightly. Alice rolled her eyes.

"It's all right, I know you're both useless at this subject," she said, but she couldn't hide her grin as she put the geranium in the pot and carefully patted down the soil around it. "You're definitely letting me copy your Charms homework, though. And you owe me a manicure tonight."

"I'll even let you use my new ever-changing colour nail polish I got in Hogsmeade last weekend," Marlene promised, throwing her belongings into her bag as everyone around them began standing up and packing away. Lily did the same, her stomach rumbling at the prospect of food.

They had all forgotten what a miserable day it was, however, and everyone halted reluctantly at the door.

The boys were the first to go, Black pushing Potter out of the greenhouse into the pouring rain and Potter using a summoning charm to ensure his best friend was pulled out with him. Unimpressed, Black flicked his wand and Potter was hoisted in the air by his ankle. Potter grimaced as the rain clearly dripped down his back, but his grin matched Black's as his friend cheerfully strolled back to the castle, dragging Potter upside-down with him. Lily couldn't help but smile, in spite of her frustration with Potter earlier that day. He and Black _did _have a good sense of humour.

"Are we going to run for it?" Alice sounded doubtful, even as the Ravenclaw girls edged past them, robes dragged over their heads.

"I suppose so." Lily took off her outer robes and, grimacing, put them over her head as her friends did the same. "Shall we?"

But they needn't have worried. As they stepped into the rain, a figure came sprinting down towards them and, as Lily squinted, she saw it was someone she recognised and he was carrying a large umbrella.

"Severus!" she cried, throwing off her robes and diving under the umbrella as he opened it.

"Couldn't have brought more than one, could he?" Marlene grumbled. She had never liked Severus and had been very vocal about it, especially in the last year. Lily knew Marlene didn't properly understand – that she didn't know Severus like Lily did, and all she saw was Severus's horrible friends.

"I only needed one," said Severus pointedly. Marlene's mouth set in a hard line.

"Suit yourself," she said. "Come on, Alice."

Lily watched as her two friends ran up towards the castle.

"I've asked you to be nice to my friends," she said to Severus, who was watching her intently.

"You don't need them," he said. "I'm your best friend. You're much more talented than they are."

Lily knew it was fruitless pointing out to him that Alice's marks were at least as good as hers and quite considerably better than Severus's in some subjects. "They're still my friends," she settled for. And then, because she didn't want an argument: "But thanks for bringing the umbrella."

Severus gave her a small smile and held the umbrella above their heads as they walked back to school. Lily grinned happily back, the rain inadequate to dampen the relief from having been released from Herbology for another five days and that Severus was clearly ready to make it up with her.

"I saw Potter and Black on my way down. Idiots," he said. "Black was using the Levicorpus spell again."

"Yes, that's funny, isn't it, how everyone's using a spell you invented?" Lily jumped neatly over a puddle. It had been Potter and Black who had found out about Severus's made up spell first hand – because he'd used it on them. Before the week was out, the whole school seemed to know it, and it was difficult to move down a corridor these days without someone being hoisted into the air, ankle first. It would have been the one Potter had used to string Severus up in the cupboard that morning. Lily had thought it a silly charm, but she was deeply impressed by Severus's ability to create new spells. She knew he had created others, too, but he'd so far refused to show them to her.

"None of them seem to realise it was _my spell_," Severus grumbled next to her.

"Well, _you _know it was yours," said Lily. Severus said nothing, and they walked half the way back in silence.

"Was Lupin in class today?" Severus suddenly asked as they were nearing the castle.

Lily hesitated. Severus saw through her.

"You know it was the full moon last night," he pressed. "And you know how werewolves – "

"_Stop it,"_ said Lily, rounding on him. She did not want to have this discussion again today. She got on well with Remus – they were both Prefects together – and she didn't like the way that Severus had latched onto him that year; that he had become convinced that the quiet, mild-mannered Remus ought to be expelled. "He's got the flu. Potter said so yesterday."

"Potter _would _cover up for him," said Severus dismissively. "I suppose he knows all about it – "

"Who cares?" said Lily, her tone impatient. "_I _don't. Come on, let's get to lunch. I'm starving."

And before Severus could make any further argument for his werewolf theory, Lily pulled her robes over her head once more, and ran out into the rain.

* * *

**A/N: **Mrs Bennet is, of course, named for Elizabeth's interfering mother in _Pride and Prejudice. _I envisage she's pregnant with Mrs Norris but that's my own obsessive interpretation.

There's slightly more of a Lily emphasis in this chapter than there is in the rest of the story.

Thanks so much to those who reviewed the Prologue – it means so much to read what people think about this. I've extended my gratitude with a quick update. I'd be so grateful for any reader's thoughts. Thanks for reading!


	3. A Different Kind of Battle

**Disclaimer: All rights to characters, places, objects and concepts you recognise belong to J.K. Rowling.**

**A/N: This chapter was originally 11,100 words. Even I thought that was too long. I originally deleted a scene, but got talked out of it at the last minute by ArwenFairTinuviel (if you haven't checked out her story, 'The Great Mistake of Severus Snape', I highly recommend it. Arwen – I hope the scene doesn't come as a disappointment!). As a result of that, the next chapter will be reasonably short and not too long in coming. By and large I'm still not entirely satisfied with this chapter, but I've been over it so many times I don't know what else to do with it. **

**Thanks, as ever, to all those who reviewed the last chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter Two: A Different Kind of Battle**

**19****th**** March 1976**

Fridays were James's least favourite day of the week.

There were, he would argue, solid reasons for this. First, Double Potions with the Slytherins occurred on a Friday afternoon: since James hated Potions _and _Slytherins, it was a doubly bad combination. Second, there was no Quidditch on a Friday (Anita Picklock, the Gryffindor Captain, preferred to get them up at the crack of dawn on Saturday instead). Third, James and his friends were nearly always in detention on Friday evening.

This Friday was going to be particularly bad. Tonight, James would be in detention by himself. He'd Transfigured a second-year Slytherin into a snake on Tuesday: Professor McGonagall, whilst unable to quite hide how impressed (and bemused) she was by his solid grasp of human transfiguration, had wasted no time in dishing out a double detention for his actions – the first to be served tonight and the second on Monday, which made three schooldays in a row that he had detention. It was not this, however, that led him to make his gloomy prediction that Friday morning. It was instead a conclusion reached as he played with his cereal and watched a sixth-year Ravenclaw approach the Gryffindor table and, specifically, Lily Evans. He scowled deeply as she blushed at whatever he said, and moved up on the bench to accommodate him. James thought his name might be Laurence Boot.

"I think people should stick to their own House tables, don't you?" he asked Peter loudly, turning to the boy on his right. Peter glanced up from his sausages in confusion, before his eyes flickered down the table.

"I think she heard you," he said.

James scowled. "Who?"

"Who else, Prongs?" Remus had reappeared that morning; he'd made a quick recovery this month. His smile was wry as he reached out and helped himself to more bacon. "He's a Prefect, you know," he said innocently. "Maybe they're talking about Prefect stuff."

"Who cares?" asked James. "I wasn't bothered about what they were talking about."

"_Sure_," Sirius drawled. "Next you'll be telling us you don't even like Evans."

"Perhaps," said Remus slyly, "he's more bothered about the fact they're actually talking at all, you know?"

James's response was to pour his pumpkin juice into Remus's cereal, who spluttered in indignation. James ignored him. "I don't even like her that much. It's Padfoot who's made a big deal about it."

His friends snorted simultaneously. But as James glowered, Sirius leaned over to Peter with a grin.

"Wormtail, Exhibit A, if you please."

Before James could protest, Peter had snatched James's bag and dragged out his Arithmancy textbook, flipping to the page they'd been reading in their last class and holding it out. Drawn in the top left-hand corner was a Snitch with wings with unmistakably the initials 'L.E.' inscribed inside. James flamed red as his three friends snorted. _Bloody Godric._ He knew he should have crossed out those stupid initials.

"Exhibit B," said Sirius dryly. It was James's Potions textbook next; a broomstick with a flier attempting to catch another 'L.E.' snitch through the air.

"Mate, I don't even know what that's supposed to be," said Sirius, wrinkling his nose. James scowled and snatched back his textbooks and his bag. All right, so drawing wasn't really his forte. He wouldn't be doing it anywhere his friends could see again, that was for sure.

"They're just _doodles_," he protested. "They don't _mean _anything."

But as he heard laughter he knew belonged to Evans, James whipped around with another scowl, causing all three of his friends to snort into their breakfast again.

"Yeah, all right, Prongs," said Sirius. "And my mum's quite a nice woman, once you get to know her."

"Your mum's a hag," said Peter.

Sirius grinned, but James wasn't paying much attention. He picked at his breakfast some more, waiting until he saw Laurence Boot smile at Lily and stand up. James shoved the last spoonful of cereal in his mouth before he grabbed his bag. Remus and Peter looked at him confusedly, but Sirius was twisting round in his seat to see what James's scowl was fixed upon. And, like the brilliant best friend he was, he jumped out of his seat, wand already in hand.

"Sorry, gentlemen," he said, the glee in his voice making him sound not sorry in the least. "We have some business to attend to before class."

"You don't have to come with me," James muttered as they followed Boot through the Great Hall.

"Course I do," said Sirius cheerfully. "Anyway, I bet you've not even got as far as what you're actually going to do to him, and I've got some brilliant ideas I'm dying to try out."

"Yeah?" James asked, as they halted in the Entrance Hall. It wasn't too full yet – there was still fifteen minutes before classes started. But Boot was weaving his way through the other students. James's wand was already in his hand, his mind running through the possibilities as he watched Boot's thick stature moving away.

"Allow me," Sirius muttered. He raised his wand, pointing it at Boot's back, and said under his breath, "_Mucus Solum."_

A burst of slime erupted out of Sirius's wand, dropping to the floor and weaving in between the clusters of students, creating a gooey, green carpet, as though an invisible, giant slug had suddenly been let loose in the Entrance Hall, starting from James and Sirius and winding towards Laurence Boot. His back turned, the Ravenclaw Prefect never saw it coming: his feet were wiped out from underneath him as the slime slipped under his feet and he fell with a nasty thud onto his back into the gooey mess. There was a sudden panic as students pushed one another to get out of the way; James and Sirius, however, walked calmly over to Boot, stepping over the slime, their way now cleared by the other students, who had created a circle around them, rippling with anticipation.

Boot was blinking confusedly up at the ceiling. He was probably thinking that sixth-year Prefects simply did not _expect _to be attacked as they were going about their business.

Evidently, he hadn't heard of James Potter and Sirius Black.

He rolled over, revealing that his back and hair were covered in the green goo, and attempted to stand up, but James was ready.

"_Levicorpus!"_ he shouted.

As if some invisible hand had seized the hem of Boot's right trouser leg, the Ravenclaw Prefect was yanked sharply upwards. His outer robes – most students, if they could afford it, wore trousers with outer robes, rather than full robes, though the _Levicorpus _spell was much funnier when used on a victim wearing the latter – fell past his head and his brown leather bag slipped over his shoulders and fell to the floor with a loud thump.

"Very funny," Boot said. "Who is it? Winsor?" His eyes widened in surprise as James and Sirius stepped sideways into his field of vision. They had never spoken, but Boot could not fail to recognise the two of them. _No one _in the school could.

"Fraid not," said James cheerfully. "Just thought we'd give everyone a little morning treat. Fridays can be _such _a bore, can't they?"

"Just livening things up," Sirius agreed. He flicked his wand – the fact it was a non-verbal spell just heightened the suspense. At first James thought it hadn't worked: then he realised that Boot was expanding – that his shirt buttons were suddenly straining and his skin was rapidly turning purple; each of his fingers were swelling up like Cumberland sausages and his eyes were bulging –

"Well, I don't think he'll fit at the Gryffindor table now, do you?" asked Sirius coolly, as Boot, now at least three times his usual size, started to drift upwards into a horizontal position.

"Terrible, really," said James, feigning a look of deep regret.

There was an incoherent mumbling from Boot – muffled no doubt by the fact that his throat had now swelled far beyond the size a neck ought to be, making his top button ping off and his tie snap.

"What's that?" asked Sirius loudly, putting his hand behind his ear. "I didn't quite catch that."

"I think he's asking for more, Padfoot," said James seriously. He raised his wand and drew an arc one way, and then another. And Boot began to spin – slowly at first, and then faster, until he was just a blur. Several people had started laughing, though a few of the girls squealed and ducked as bits of slime flew off Boot and over their heads. James's lip curved upwards. On a grey Friday morning, there were probably few funnier sights to be had than a Prefect that looked like a giant, spinning blueberry.

"_Stop it!"_

James and Sirius whirled around from where Boot still spun above their heads. Lily Evans was standing feet away, looking furious.

"Stop what?" asked James cheekily, but a second later Lily's wand was out and pointing at him and he raised his hands. Lily Evans's wand was not one to be messed with: he'd witnessed her Bat Bogey Hex on only a handful of occasions, but it had been enough. "All right," he sighed, and raising his wand, flicked it so that Boot moved over their heads, deflated rapidly, and then dropped heavily between them, face-first into the carpet of slime. Several students laughed; Lily grimaced as she reached down and began helping Boot to his feet.

"I liked him better all swelled up," said Sirius regretfully as Boot stood. The Ravenclaw swayed for a minute, looking unsteady, and James realised what was about to happen a second before Boot lurched forward and vomited at Lily's feet. Sirius roared, but James's laughter was cut abruptly short at the scowl Lily sent him. She was evidently _not _happy. And he suspected it wasn't entirely because she was going to have to change her footwear before their first class.

_But it was worth it_, James thought. _She can't possibly fancy someone who hurled all over her shoes._

"Potter! Black! My office this _instant!"_

Professor McGonagall had arrived. Students scattered as she approached, her thin lips pursing as she pulled up her dark blue robes to step over the walkway of green slime that had been created. James and Sirius shared a grin: it was always better not to get caught, but they were particularly fond of their ability to render their Head of House's mouth to an almost invisible line.

"Mr Boot, I suggest you go to the Hospital Wing," she said sharply, as two more Ravenclaws appeared, taking Boot by either arm.

"Bloody git," James muttered to Sirius.

"No," said a voice behind him, "_you're _the git, James Potter."

James turned to find Marlene McKinnon standing there, arms folded, her pretty features contorted into a frown. He had known her since he was young; their fathers worked in the Ministry together. She was undoubtedly the bluntest girl James knew: her sharp tongue and impatient tone were well known throughout Gryffindor House.

"Ah, McKinnon," he said, "no need to be like that – "

"He was asking her if she'd switch patrols with him next week, you great prat," said Marlene irritably, and before James could come up with a reply, she'd pushed past him and stormed after Lily.

"Patrols, eh?" said Remus, who had just arrived with Peter. "No Hogsmeade trip, is it?" His lips twitched and James had the suspicion that Remus found his overreaction hilarious. But Professor McGonagall was jerking her bony finger at them and so James had to drop the matter temporarily in favour of following his Head of House in the direction of her office.

* * *

"Why," said Professor McGonagall, sitting down in her leather chair and fixing them both with an eagle-eyed stare, "is it always you two?"

Her steely tone would have made any other student wilt with embarrassment: Minerva McGonagall, who had been Prefect and Head Girl herself at Hogwarts and had spent her last nineteen years as a teacher perfecting ways to make her students squirm, knew precisely what buttons to press in order to extract remorse from her charges.

All her charges, that is, except two.

Sirius Black had sat down without being invited, put his feet up on her polished desk as if it were his own, and pulled her tin of biscuits – her _special _tin, reserved for particularly difficult conversations and filled with Honeyduke's best ginger newts – into his lap, and had started rummaging through it. This was much to the amusement of his co-conspirator, James Potter, who fell into a chair before Professor McGonagall had a chance to sit down herself, stretching his long legs out in front of him and resting his elbows on the arms of his chair, fixing Minerva McGonagall with a smirk that could have been intended to seduce or intimidate her.

She was not inclined to acquiesce to either.

"I can answer that," said James Potter immediately, but Professor McGonagall was not going to fall for that one again. The trick, she had learned, was not to let this pair get a word in edgeways. If one did not follow that rule, one would be two hours and a whole tin of ginger biscuits down before discipline even got a mention.

"It was a rhetorical question, Potter," she said icily. "And Black, for Merlin's sake, get your feet off my desk."

"Oh, I'm _terribly _sorry, Professor," said Sirius Black, swinging his legs from the desk and placing them on the floor. "Didn't see you there. Biscuit?" He held the tin out to her as James Potter snorted, and she snatched it from him with a glare. He merely smirked and held up a newt-shaped biscuit in his hand, before biting off its head. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

The key problem with Sirius Black, thought Professor McGonagall irritably as her eyes narrowed at him, was that he was so extraordinarily difficult to dislike. They _both _were: Black, with his charm and extraordinary good looks, and Potter, with his relentless good humour and cheer, were some of the most popular students in the school for a reason. Professor McGonagall had faced this battle since the pair of them had been Sorted into her House four and a half year ago. They were both exceedingly bright, with a sharp sense of humour that could have the whole class – teacher included – in fits of laughter if you didn't watch them carefully. Professor McGonagall found herself frequently lamenting the fact that they chose to use their talents to mess around and to hex, it seemed, half the school.

"It's not a pleasure, Black," she snapped. "And do up your top button, for Merlin's sake."

Black smirked again as he reached up to do as she asked. Her eyes slid to Potter. He, probably, was beyond redemption uniform-wise: his shirt was hanging out of the bottom of his jumper, _two _of his buttons were undone and his tie was so loosely knotted it was in danger of unravelling altogether. And that _hair. _He was grinning as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

"Can we make this quick, Professor?" he asked. "Only I wouldn't want to be any later for Professor Babbling."

"Don't give me that rubbish, Potter," said Professor McGonagall. "You will be leaving here only when you've provided me with a satisfactory explanation for why you felt the need to attack a Prefect from another House without provocation."

Potter's face darkened immediately at the mention of his victim, which told Professor McGonagall that Potter had probably, on this occasion, instigated the action. Next to Potter Black made an indignant noise.

"How do you know it wasn't provoked?" he demanded. "I call that bias, don't you, Prongs?"

"Agreed, Padfoot. That much smarminess was too much for any student to suffer."

Those ludicrous nicknames. They had emerged, like four particularly irritating mosquitos, barely six months before with the sole purpose, it seemed, to create a ridiculous air of mystique, together with the collective name they had dubbed themselves and their two co-conspirators, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew: the _Marauders_. At least that made some degree of sense: in fact, Professor McGonagall harboured a deep suspicion that she had unwittingly bestowed the name upon them on one of their many visits to her office when she had told them, not without a certain degree of coldness, that school was no place for _marauding_, and if they wished to engage in such activities, she kindly requested it be during the holidays.

She pitied their parents.

"Really," James Potter continued, "we were doing everyone a favour. We ought to be congratulated."

"Professor, you should've said!" Sirius Black said with a grin. "You're most welcome. But we really ought to be getting along to Ancient Runes, so – " He half-rose from his chair.

"Sit _down, _Black. Of course I'm not congratulating you. That display in the Entrance Hall was nothing more than a cowardly – "

"Now, come on, Professor, we're not _cowards_."

"_Despicable – _"

"I reckon we ought to take that as a compliment, Prongs."

"_Immature –_"

"Actually, Padfoot, I'm starting to think she's quite peeved."

"Actions I have ever had the displeasure of witnessing!" Professor McGonagall finished, breathing hard through her nose. "And kindly refrain from using those ridiculous nicknames! They are neither amusing nor clever!"

Two smirks – so alike it was almost eerie, given that they were not related – greeted her. She inwardly cursed: to mention those names was only to play precisely into their hands.

It irked her considerably to think that she, Minerva McGonagall, had to worry about playing into the hands of two teenagers.

"What do you have to say for yourselves?" she demanded.

Two more identical smirks. They both opened their mouths simultaneously –

"No!" she said, holding up her hand before they could say a word. "I don't want to hear it, thank you. Detention for both of you. _Separate_ detentions," she added sharply, as they shared a grin. "Professor Slughorn has requested that you two are not permitted in detention together again."

She was rather understating the matter. Potter and Black's last detention with the Potions master had ended in Horace clattering into the staff room, covered head to toe in potions ingredients that were indecipherable, screaming and spluttering that he would take it as a personal affront if any teacher ever again allowed them in detention together. The staff had privately agreed that detention did not seem to have much impact on Potter and Black anyway, but Professor McGonagall could hardly be expected to take points from her own House every time the pair of them did something that required discipline. No doubt Gryffindor House would have been in minus points before the school year had even started.

"I think that covers everything," she said crisply. "I suggest you both get along to Professor Babbling's class."

It was the one redeeming feature of disciplining the trouble-making pair, she thought, that at least it reached an end at some point.

But James Potter stretched out his legs again. "Actually," he said, "I've decided I don't want to go to Ancient Runes after all. I'm quite enjoying this little chat."

At _some _point, Minerva McGonagall thought rather irritably to herself.

* * *

"You know, Prongs," said Peter as they sat in Potions that afternoon, pretending to make Strengthening Solution (a task rendered rather difficult by the fact they'd used up the entirety of their salamander blood supply the previous month by adding it to the Slytherins' body wash). "I don't think it's Laurence Boot you need to be worried about."

"Thanks, Wormtail, I think I got that one from Marlene this morning." James's tone was sour at the reminder of the trouble he had got himself into with Lily Evans that morning. His half-chopped wormwood lay in front of him, but he made no move to continue with it. He and Peter had already planned that Peter was going to fake an injury roughly two-thirds of the way through the lesson and James would have to take him to the Hospital Wing. Sirius was keen to get on board with this plan and, under any other circumstances, it would have been Sirius, rather than Peter, with whom James was carrying it out. Unfortunately, due to an incident involving the Slytherins' cauldrons the previous week, James and Sirius had been banned from working together in Potions for the rest of the term. And since Remus was a lot keener to do the work properly than James was, Sirius was chained to the lesson that day.

"That's not what I meant," said Peter. He'd given up working long before: his pomegranate lay only half-squeezed somewhere to his right, having been abandoned twenty minutes previously. "_That's _what I meant." He jabbed a finger to James's left, and James followed where he was pointing.

Towards Lily. And where she was working on her potion with Severus Snape.

"Snivellus? You think I should feel threatened by _Snivellus?_" James snorted, not bothering to hide his derision as he glanced over the sallow-faced Slytherin with his dark, greasy strands of hair that hung limply over his face.

"Don't you think he fancies her?" Peter rested one elbow on the table. "You watch. He's practically slobbering all over her."

Hesitantly, but nonetheless complying, because Peter was a brilliant observer, James twisted in his seat to look at Lily and Snape again. Of course, they were doing the work properly – they didn't always work together in Potions, but when they did they were easily the best pair in the class, much as it pained James to admit it. Slughorn practically wet himself with delight whenever he examined the potions the two of them produced. Lily was currently measuring out the salamander blood while Snape chopped the hellebore. James was about to twist back to announce that _he _couldn't see anything out of the ordinary – other than an apparent enjoyment of Potions, which was weird enough, frankly – when Lily leaned over Snape to add the blood to the potion. And James saw Snape's eyes flicker upwards, towards where Lily had unfastened her top buttons in the heat of the classroom. Snape's lips curved into a smile.

James thought he might be sick.

"Slimy git," he said, but now he was watching, he couldn't tear his eyes away. It was as though his brain was registering all the little things he'd missed before – the way Snape's hand lingered just too long as he touched Lily's arm; the way he found totally unnecessary ways to brush up against her; _Merlin forbid_, the way his head tilted in such a position that James _knew _he was inhaling Lily's scent…

"I'm going to bloody kill him," he growled.

"Who now?" Remus had caught James's words and was twisting round in his stool with a grin. James merely scowled; Peter supplied the answer.

"Snivellus. He fancies Evans."

"How revolting." Sirius had twisted in his stool too. "Better watch out, Prongs; she likes him a lot more than she likes you."

James's blood ran cold, even in the heat of the Potions classroom. "You – you don't think – " he spluttered.

"She's not _exactly _telling him where to go, is she?" said Peter doubtfully. Almost in unison, the four of them turned to look at the unlikely pair again. Lily was laughing. Snape's smirk was almost too much to bear.

"Lily's nice to everyone," said Remus mildly.

"Not to me," said James, stabbing his wormwood angrily with his knife. It would have been far more satisfying had it been Snape, he thought. "I'm – going – to – bloody – _kill _– him. Just you wait. At the weekend – "

"Er, Prongs? Are you sure that's such a good idea?"

James lifted his scowl to fix it on Peter, but his friend held his ground.

"Remember what you said on Wednesday, after the full moon?" he said.

James's gaze shot to Remus, who thankfully had already turned back to his hellebore; James grabbed Peter's collar and pulled him close to whisper.

"What're you on about?"

"You know," said Peter, his voice low and urgent. "That we couldn't do anything too bad to Snape, cos it would confirm his…uh, _theory _about Moony? Well, if you have a go at him, he might not _get _that it's about Evans, mightn't he?"

Mmm. James had not thought of that. It was a surprising observation from Peter, who could usually be relied upon to support any Snivellus-baiting, but Peter _had _been anxious about Snape knowing Remus's secret, James remembered.

"All right, everyone, I'll be coming round to have a look at how you're getting on!" called Slughorn from the front of the classroom. "You should have already added the salamander blood and be getting ready to add your wormwood…"

"Time to go, Wormtail," James muttered, sufficiently distracted from his contemplations on Snape to realise when time was short. Peter grinned and stuffed his textbook into his bag as James scooped up their materials. Then, without warning, Peter let out a loud howl.

Everyone in the classroom turned around to look as Peter whimpered in his most pathetic way. James had to smother a grin. Peter was easily the best actor of the four of them. Remus was completely incapable of controlling the muscles in his face when he was lying, whilst no one was stupid enough to believe the innocent voices James and Sirius adopted whenever they were trying to get themselves out of trouble. Sure enough, Slughorn hurried to their workbench, looking anxious.

"Dear boy, what's happened?"

"He burned himself _really _badly, Professor!" As Slughorn lifted his eyebrows, James realised, too late, that he probably should have left Peter to do the talking.

Thankfully, Peter too seemed to have realised their plan was in danger of going awry.

"It – _hurts_!" he gasped, clutching his hand to his chest.

"Well, let me see, boy – "

"NO!" Peter wailed, as Slughorn reached out. The Professor withdrew his own hand quickly, looking taken aback. "Don't touch it!"

Slughorn took out his handkerchief and mopped his brow. "Well, I suppose you'd better go to the Hospital Wing – "

"I…I don't think I can make it by myself, Professor," whined Peter pathetically. "I can't even carry my bag!"

Slughorn's prominent gaze flickered between Peter and James, as if he deeply suspected that something was amiss but he was unable to put his finger on precisely what it was. He rested his hands on his enormous stomach.

"Well, I suppose – "

"Cheers, Professor!" said James quickly, scooping up the two bags. "C'mon, Wormy." He bolted from the classroom, Peter staggering behind him, still letting out long wails of anguish.

Once down the corridor, James pushed Peter's bag at him.

"I reckon you quite enjoyed yourself there," he said. Peter grinned.

"He can _never _work it out!" he said. He was almost bouncing up and down on the spot in excitement. It was funny, James thought, how bloody _pleased _Peter always was to be included. "So what're we going to do now?"

The temptation to find some way of getting back at Snape, to send the snivelling git a message that he did not have a chance in hell of landing Lily Evans, was almost overwhelming. But Peter was right, James thought regretfully; now was not the time to provoke Snape. Besides which, Lily's furious expression from that morning was still all-too-fresh in James's mind: he knew, instinctively, that she would not approve, that it would worsen her mood with him even more.

He _would _get back at Snape – that was certain. Just not today. Perhaps when both Lily's temper and Snape's obsession with Remus had blown over.

"Common Room, Wormtail," he said, his tone tinged with regret. "Think we'll just enjoy an early start to the weekend."

* * *

**22****nd**** March 1976**

Up until the age of fifteen, Lily hadn't really bothered with any of the Gryffindor boys in her own year.

It had started out completely intentionally. Lily hadn't wanted anything to do with the two boys – James Potter and Sirius Black – who had been so horrible to her best friend on the Hogwarts Express, and she deliberately ignored them, and anyone associated with them, for the first six weeks. By then she had accumulated so many new friends that she hadn't really neededto make any more. It was a trend that continued throughout her school years: she had plenty of friends in both her own House and others, and although the snub was no long intentional, she didn't miss the company of the Gryffindor boys. She knew them well enough – they had every class together – but by and large she didn't pay them much attention.

Fifth year, of course, had changed that, because Lily had, much to her surprise, been made a Prefect, and her fellow Prefect was Remus Lupin. With twice-weekly patrols she could hardly _avoid _getting to know him. He had surprised her with his kind nature that Lily had been drawn to instantly. He was unassuming and funny in a way that Lily didn't expect. It simply didn't matter that she already had plenty of friends because Remus Lupin was a friend worth having. Lily had even idly considered whether she might be attracted to him She'd gone as far as trying to ask him to Hogsmeade in October – strictly as friends, so she could assess the situation – to which Remus had responded with a polite decline. To this day Lily wasn't quite sure how he'd managed to wriggle out of it. It became clear, two weeks later, _why _he'd said no, of course. James Potter had evidently called dibs.

The notion had infuriated and exasperated her – she was sure the timing of the rumours exploding about James Potter's attraction her just two weeks after she had indicated some interest in Remus was no coincidence – and she felt like seizing Remus and snogging him senseless at the breakfast table just to stick two fingers up at Potter, notwithstanding the fact she wasn't even sure she definitely _liked _Remus.

Severus had not been at _all _happy when she had suggested this to him, and had started reiterating his theories about Remus Lupin's monthly disappearances.

It didn't matter. By December Lily had come to the regretful conclusion that she really liked Remus, but on a strictly platonic level. There was no spark, there – just friendliness. The idea had disappointed her a bit, but she valued him as a friend and she still looked forward to their patrols around the castle.

And so that evening she beamed as she caught sight of him waiting for her in the Entrance Hall. She slid down the bannister for the last few steps, jumping off the end and landing neatly in front of him.

"You're very chipper for a Monday night," he said dryly.

"The week hasn't robbed me of my optimism yet," Lily returned. "Anyway, it's the time of our patrols. What's not to like?" She linked her arm through his and grinned at the reluctant smile she'd managed to coax from her fellow Prefect.

"It's not _usually _the time of our patrols," Remus reminded her. "How _is _Laurence Boot, anyway?"

Lily's smile dropped at the mention of their fellow Prefect, who had been absent from the meeting earlier in the evening. "He's fine – Madam Pomfrey let him out of the Hospital Wing yesterday."

Remus frowned. "It shouldn't have kept him in the Hospital Wing for two days – it was only an Inflation Hex."

"Yes, well, he's got severe asthma apparently," said Lily. The whole thing had made her feel horribly guilty – she'd gone to see him in the Hospital Wing over the weekend and he'd still looked unwell. "Stupid prats. He only wanted to swap patrols with us so he could celebrate his six-month anniversary with his girlfriend tonight!"

"_I _know that," said Remus with a grin.

"You should've stopped them," Lily grumbled.

Remus at least had the decency to look abashed. "I'm flattered that you think I have any control over James and Sirius," he said mildly. He paused, his grin dropping a little. "It's all right; I think Dumbledore made the same mistake when he made me Prefect. He thought I could keep my friends in line."

Lily glanced at him, surprised. "That not why he made you Prefect, Remus," she said.

Remus's smile was now positively faint. It always surprised her, when these unexpected bouts of self-deprecation and doubt seemed to set in: before she had got to know Remus properly, she had assumed the only way he could put up with his friends' egos must be if he himself had a big head.

"You're too kind, Lily. But I hardly deserved it. My record wasn't exactly stellar."

Lily snorted. "Who else were they going to choose? Sirius Black? _James Potter_?" She squeezed his arm. "Not that I'm saying you were the best of a bad bunch," she said with a grin.

"But that's the implication," said Remus good-naturedly.

"Well, I – " Lily stopped up short, halting in her walk as her gaze locked in on a cupboard not very far from them. A very noisy cupboard, by all accounts. Lily eyed it warily. This was definitely the worst part of being a Prefect. She felt like such a bloody hypocrite. A sudden moan from beyond the cupboard doors made her turn, grimacing, to Remus. "Do you want to do the honours or shall I?"

"Oh, you can do it," said Remus, grinning. "I know how much you love it. Wouldn't want to deprive you."

"Git," Lily muttered, but she strode forward and yanked open the cupboard door.

There was a loud female squawk that reminded Lily far too much of Petunia, followed by a deep, disappointed groan. Lily's face flamed as she realised the culprits – two sixth-year Hufflepuffs she recognised as Joshua Forthright and Caislin Cutting – were only half-dressed. And it wasn't the half she would have _preferred _to be dressed.

"Urgh! In a _cupboard? Really?_" she said before she could stop herself or consider something more Prefectly to say. Remus sniggered behind her. She covered her eyes. "Fifteen points from Hufflepuff," she mumbled, her face hot. "Just get back to your Common Room."

"But that's seven and a half points each – "

"Make it twenty, then!" said Lily fiercely, taking away her fingers away from her permanently-scarred eyes. "Go!"

Not waiting to be told again, and looking more than slightly taken-aback by being admonished by a younger student, Josh Forthright and Caislin Cutting pulled on their clothes hurriedly and sprinted down the corridor. Lily turned to Remus, who was almost bent double in silent laughter.

"I'm glad _you _find this funny!" said Lily indignantly.

"Sorry," Remus apologised, straightening up, though he didn't quite manage to rid his eyes of his mirth and that ridiculous grin was still plastered to his face. "It's just you're hilarious when you catch students. You look so indignant that they've made you do it. I wish I could make you do it every time."

"It's embarrassing!" Lily moaned. "Thank _Merlin _I've never caught our dorm mates!"

"Ah well," said Remus, looking amused, "cupboards aren't really my friends' style."

Lily arched her eyebrows, sure that meant that Remus knew perfectly well where his friends went and he'd make sure they never checked there. Not that it would have mattered; Marlene in particular had a habit of dropping hints as to which cupboard she'd chosen for her latest snog in the accurately-placed hope that Lily would steer clear. She had not, naturally, told Remus this, which perhaps accounted for the worried look he was now giving her.

"I don't think they're out snogging tonight," he said quickly. "James is in detention again, but I think Peter and Sirius are cooking up some joke."

"Hope it's funny this time," Lily muttered. Remus grinned.

"Ah, Lily, I _know _you find their pranks amusing."

This was an accusation which Lily couldn't – and didn't want to – deny; she thought she'd never laughed so hard as at the joke they had managed to pull off for Halloween that year. Alice had had to thump her on the back repeatedly when she'd choked on her pumpkin juice.

"Their _pranks_ are funny," she said. "Hexing other Prefects _isn't_."

Remus was silent. There was a faint blush in his cheeks, and Lily realised she must have hit a nerve. It was unfair, she knew, to expect Remus to keep them in line. Not even Dumbledore himself could control James Potter and Sirius Black. She opened her mouth to say something consoling, or perhaps anything that wasn't so pointed towards his friends, but she was cut off by a loud voice from inside the nearest classroom.

"No, you idiot!"

Lily halted abruptly. She _knew _that voice. And, judging from the expression she noted on Remus's face as her eyes slid towards her fellow Prefect, so did he.

"Now, see here, Black, if you're going to be like that – " The second, sulky tones were unmistakably those of Peeves. Lily raised her eyebrows at Remus, but he had gone oddly pale.

"Er, Lily," he said, "maybe we'd better – "

"He's out past curfew, Remus," Lily sang. She had no real intention of giving detention to her own House-mate just for being out past curfew, but it was quite fun winding Remus up. He got so _antsy. _

"Padfoot," came the timid voice of Peter Pettigrew, "maybe, you know, this isn't such a good idea. Prongs didn't – "

"No, no, c'mon, Peeves," came Sirius Black's voice, obviously ignoring Pettigrew, "it's _really _simple – '_my hooked nose is foul' - _c'mon – "

Lily's smile dropped like a stone. Remus was rubbing his face with his hand.

"Lily, I _really think – "_

"One more time! And then you'll be ready for breakfast tomorrow!" came Black's voice loudly. There was a loud sigh, a whiz that sounded like Peeves had swooped through the air, and then his high, cackling voice bursting into song:

"_Oh, someone's got a dirty secret, _

_And he's crap at hiding it, _

_He wants a red-headed Gryffindor_

_With green eyes and a sharp wit."_

It was definitely not what Lily had been expecting. She felt the heat creep into her face. _Oh Merlin. He's made up a song about Potter fancying me_.

"Let's just go, Lily," Remus pleaded beside her. But Lily was rooted to the spot.

"_Whenever she leans over him,_

_He feels himself start to sweat._

_Luckily his grease already_

_Makes him seem quite wet. _

_Wait – grease?_ Black wouldn't persuade Peeves to sing a song that was derogatory about his best friend! A cold wave of dread washed over Lily and she opened her mouth, but Peeves was continuing with the third verse.

"_His name is Snivellus Snape and_

_He doesn't walk but he prowls;_

_He hardly ever showers_

_And his hooked nose is foul._

_He's slobbering over Evans – "_

"ENOUGH!" Lily burst out, throwing open the classroom door. Peeves was floating upside down above Professor McGonagall's desk; Black and Peter Pettigrew were leaning against two of the student desks, arms folded, mouths agape as they stared at her in shock.

"Evans!" Black was the first to recover. "Smashing of you to join us."

"It's Potty's ickle-wickle crush!" shouted Peeves in glee, swooping over their heads. "Potty and Prefect sitting in a tree – "

Black snorted, evidently amused, but he wasn't about to let Peeves get too cocky. "Leave off, Peeves."

"If you're going to be like that, I won't sing your little song – "

"NO ONE IS SINGING ANY SONGS!" Lily shouted. She whipped out her wand, pointing it at Peeves. "If you sing that song at breakfast – _or at any other time_ – I swear the Bloody Baron will hear about it."

Peeves shut up immediately, floating sullenly above her. "No need to get in a hissy fit, Perfect Prefect," he said, before he ducked out of the classroom door, swooping down the corridor. Lily kept her wand out and trained on Black.

"You didn't like our song?" asked Black innocently. Pettigrew sniggered, but his face dropped immediately when he caught Lily's eye. She gritted her teeth.

"Well," came Remus's voice behind her, "I think it's probably best if they go back to the Tower –"

"You knew about this!" Lily whirled around, her wand pointing at Remus, who blinked. But something flickered in his face before he started to splutter an unconvincing denial, and she knew she was right. "Remus, I can't believe you! This is really cruel – you ought to be _stopping _them – "

"_Oi_," said Black. "He can't tell us what to do. Besides," he continued, folding his arms defensively, "he would've enjoyed it, same as anyone else."

"_I _wouldn't have enjoyed it!" said Lily, outraged. "It's totally – "

"Accurate?" Black suggested. "He does fancy you, Evans."

"I – " Lily faltered. She was not, typically, an arrogant person. She did not flatter herself that boys were chasing her, even though her friends made vocal protestations otherwise. But she _had _tried hard to ignore, over the last two years or so, the way Severus had a tendency to gaze intensely into her eyes, the way he sometimes lingered just a bit too close… "He doesn't deserve this, _however_ he feels!" she said instead.

"It'd put him off!" said Peter, but he was silenced with a glare from Lily. Black was not so easily deterred.

"Maybe Evans _likes _Snivelly's attention," said Black, his eyes glittering. "Maybe she doesn't _want _us to put him off."

"I – we – that's not – " Lily spluttered.

"All right, Evans," said Black. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't fancy Snape. And we won't let Peeves sing his song after all, all right?"

"HIS – NAME – IS – SEVERUS!" Lily all but screeched. "And it's _none _of your business, Black!"

Black's disbelief was written all over his handsome face; he had always been easy to read, wearing his emotions in plain sight.

"You _can't _fancy Snape over James!" he said incredulously.

Lily stared at him. "What has _Potter _got to do with this?" But she already knew – of course. _James _fancied her. And if Remus could not be allowed a shot, then Severus _certainly _could not; Sirius Black was nothing if not fiercely loyal to his best friend. It didn't make it all right to pick on _her _friend, though. "It's not a flipping _competition, _you idiot!" she said.

Black arched his eyebrows. "You know, Evans."

"Twenty points from Gryffindor!" Lily snapped. "And if you _dare _let Peeves sing that song, I'll tell McGonagall exactly who's responsible, too. Understand?"

"Got it," Black muttered, but Lily had already turned on Remus.

"I'm done patrolling for this evening," she informed him. "Especially with someone who can't even tell his friends when they're being absolute _pillocks_."

And she stormed away, leaving three of her House mates staring after her. Sirius, of course, was the first to find his voice.

"Well, I think she overreacted, don't you?"

But Remus was staring unhappily after Lily, shaking his head. "It _was _cruel, Padfoot," he said quietly. "She obviously doesn't fancy him, but he is her friend and she doesn't want to hurt him."

"What about Prongs?" Sirius asked sullenly. He was not usually very patient with Remus's attempts to make him feel bad about his actions; not like James, on whom it more often had an effect. He was _itching _to have a go at Snape after Tuesday night; James could not possibly complain that this said anything about Remus, so it was the perfect cover. And if he could give James a laugh in the process, even better.

"Prongs," said Remus angrily, "had enough sense to keep out of this one, Padfoot."

"Oh, come off it," Sirius scoffed. "He's in detention, else he'd be here, same as us."

"No, Sirius." It sounded remarkably like Remus's teeth were gritted, and Sirius reflected idly that Remus always got most antsy when he thought he wasn't behaving like the proper Prefect. "You know perfectly well if you'd thought James wanted to be in on this, you'd have waited for him to be out of detention."

Sirius might always maintain that James knew him best, but Remus knew him well enough. Sirius had known, of course, that James wanted to lay off Snape for a bit after Wednesday morning – and not just because Peter had been fretting about it since they'd left the Common Room to find Peeves. Remus didn't know the reason for James's odd display of restraint, of course, but he was perfectly aware that James and Sirius did nearly everything together, and that Sirius would only have left James out for good reasons. That reason, of course, was the Sirius, unlike James, was in some mood for restraint. He was in the mood for firing warning shots at the greasy snake – to show him he couldn't sneak around after them and hope to get away with it.

Only now, of course, his plan had been ruined.

"No need to get all high and mighty," he muttered. "I've had twenty points taken away. Bloody hell, what's the point of having a Prefect for a mate if he doesn't get you out of trouble?"

And it was his turn to push past Remus and stalk away down the corridor.

* * *

**A/N: I had a quick re-read of HBP and Slughorn's words on Lily the other day. It's quite important to me that she comes across as someone brave, funny and clever but with a keen sense of justice (which is what puts her so much at odds with James and Sirius). I would love to know what you think of my portrayal so far. Reviews are even more motivating than Ben and Jerry's ice cream.**


	4. Tensions Heighten

**Disclaimer: All rights to characters, places, objects and concepts you recognise belong to J.K. Rowling.**

**A/N: As always, thanks to those who reviewed - it's much appreciated. Sorry this took longer than anticipated; I'm still not entirely happy with it, but it's about time we pushed on, don't you think?**

* * *

**Chapter Three – Tensions Heighten**

**23rd March 1976**

It was fair to say that James Potter had experienced quite a number of detentions in the four and a half years he had spent at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. If one were minded to be precise, he had received exactly eighty-four detentions, twenty-three of which had been accumulated just that year, ever since Sirius had suggested a race to one hundred at their fifth Welcome Feast. It was an impressive record, particularly given the rules of the bet: that detentions could not be _deliberately _sought; only incidentally received. Unfortunately, it paled next to that of Sirius, who had made it to ninety-three. Sirius was fond of boasting of this lead, and James of pointing out that Sirius had _already _been ahead when the bet was made. Remus would smirk, his paltry forty-eight no real threat, and Peter tended towards gazing at them with something akin to adoration, as if sheer admiration would somehow raise his mere thirty-nine to a level where he could realistically partake in the competition.

It particularly rankled that James had served three detentions that week and was still trailing his best friend.

None of this was on James's mind on Tuesday evening.

He actually legged it down from Gryffindor Tower to Professor McGonagall's office – the first time he had ever run to a detention, and so fast that his tie flew over his shoulder and his trousers, a little loose from the growth spurt he'd experienced that year, threatened to fall down. James swore as he remembered that he'd forgotten, once again, to purchase a belt at the last Hogsmeade weekend, but he grabbed his waistband with one hand and continued to pelt it down towards the Tower which contained the office of his Head of House. It probably wasn't even yet five past five, but he'd sworn to himself he wasn't going to be late for this one. This was a _special _one. Because it was his first ever with Lily Evans.

Lily Evans, he knew, had received her own handful of detentions whilst at Hogwarts. He'd witnessed the dishing out of a few of them – a few for passing notes about Quagmire Fortesque's snogging technique (James still cringed when he remembered that) and one particularly memorable one assigned by Slughorn, who had, much to James's disgust as he had been dragged off to the Hospital Wing, been unable to contain his praise for Lily's thorough grasp of the Bat Bogey Hex.

It was therefore much to James's surprise that, when he skidded to a halt outside McGonagall's office at precisely three minutes past five, Lily was still waiting.

"Not your first detention, is it, Evans?" he joked. Lily eyed him rather warily, and James pulled at his collar in awkwardness, suddenly painfully aware that he had not bothered to do up his top button nor, in fact, tuck his shirt in.

"Eleventh, actually," she said. Her tone was clipped and James's hand jumped from his collar to his hair. She was annoyed with him – probably still because of Friday and his altercation with Laurence Boot. _Shit. _

"Ah…first with McGonagall, then?"

"Yes," said Lily shortly.

That explained a lot. James dropped his hand from his hair and rapped sharply on the door. Lily gaped at him, her composure suddenly slipping.

"I thought she'd come out and get us!" she spluttered.

"And it's that sort of thing," said James with a grin, as Professor McGonagall called for them to come in, "that will make people think you're a detention virgin, Evans."

He pushed open the door and waited for her to go in. Lily looked rather taken aback at this show of chivalry, but she brushed past him so close he could actually smell her shampoo. His stomach jumped; he grimaced as he followed her into the office.

Their Head of House did _not _look happy. She eyed them beadily over her glasses; her arms were folded tightly across her body.

"You're both late," she rapped out. "When I give out an hour's detention, I expect a little _gratitude _to be shown."

"Evans was here, Professor," said James, closing the door behind him. "She just didn't know to knock."

Lily shot him an incredulous expression that James didn't quite understand; Professor McGonagall merely sniffed.

"Well, I suppose few students have had quite the experience in detention you have, Potter."

James grinned.

"I'm really sorry, Professor," said Lily. "What would you like us to do?"

"Well, it might take you past six o'clock now," Professor McGonagall checked her watch before looking up at them both. "I've got two second-years in the Transfiguration classroom who simply cannot manage the _simplest _of…" She seemed to remember herself and adjusted her glasses. "They need to be tutored on turning rabbits into goblets."

Lily straightened up, obviously pleased with this, but James had dropped his casual stance and barely noticed.

"_Tutoring?"_ he spluttered. "What kind of detention is _that?_"

"An easy one, as they go," said Professor McGonagall dryly. "If I were you, Potter, I'd go to the Transfiguration classroom quickly before I change my mind and send you to the Trophy Room instead."

James grinned in spite of himself. "Can't, Professor," he said. "Sirius is already there."

Professor McGonagall glared. "_Go."_

Ordinarily James might have tried to push his luck a little – the idea of tutoring was frankly beyond the pale and deserved some argument – but Lily was out of the door in seconds, and so James darted after her instead. She was halfway down the corridor before James managed to catch up with her. He fell in line with her quick steps, but she didn't acknowledge him.

"Sirius and I aren't allowed in detention together anymore," he said, eager to fill the silence. "Not since we blew up Slughorn's supply cupboard when we were supposed to be cleaning it."

The corner of Lily's lips twitched before setting back into a straight line, as though she didn't quite have control over her facial muscles. James had to fight a grin at this involuntary show of amusement; he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"He was _furious_ – went stampeding off to the staff room. Obviously we'd scarpered by the time he came back," he confided conspiratorially.

But this time Lily's mouth remained resolutely tight; she stared ahead without looking at him. James deflated, feeling his shoulders sag. Bloody hell, was he _ever _going to get it right? He knew that ordinarily she would have found it quite funny – he'd heard a few tales about her talking herself out of detentions. She had to be annoyed about Friday morning still. Bloody Laurence Boot. He scuffed his feet angrily.

"_Tutoring,"_ he muttered – because at least that was _something _he could complain about out loud. "What a _joke_."

"Why can't you just be grateful?" Lily's voice was cool. "Why complain?"

James wrinkled his nose. "Tutoring _second years_. Really? I'd rather be in the Trophy Room."

Lily folded her arms as she descended the stairs to the ground floor. "What's so bad about tutoring second years?"

At least she was talking to him, he reflected. "Second years are so _annoying_."

"Some people think the same thing about _you_, Potter," said Lily, arching her eyebrows.

"Aw, c'mon, Evans – don't be like that."

"Or what, Potter?" Lily snapped. "You'll write another horrible song designed to embarrass me and my friend?"

They were outside the Transfiguration classroom; James stopped dead, staring at her. "That wasn't _me_," he spluttered. "I _told _Sirius not to pick on Snape – "

"Very noble, I'm sure," said Lily coolly.

James frowned, his pride jarred. "I wouldn't have done something like that," he said. "Not something that'd embarrass you too." The moment he'd said the words, he wished he could take them back. He sounded _pathetic – _literally the saddest person in the school. That wasn't going to bloody impress her. He felt the heat rise up in his neck.

Sure enough, Lily's expression remained stony. "But it would've been all right if it had just embarrassed Severus?" she challenged.

It was something James, who made it his business to embarrass Snape at most available opportunities, could hardly deny. Angrily, he shoved his hands into his pockets again. "I've got no interest in picking on Snape just now," he muttered.

"That makes a first," said Lily. She turned away; put her hand on the doorknob to go into the classroom. James caught her arm.

"No, Evans – "

"Don't 'Evans' me," she hissed, rounding on him. He jerked back in surprise: seldom had he ever heard so much venom in her voice, and certainly not directed at him. "You and Black set out to humiliate _anyone _who irritates you – Laurence Boot; Severus; Merlin, even that _third year _this morning. When are you going to grow up and realise that you can really hurt people's feelings? I've had to avoid Sev for _four days_ because he'll _know _something's wrong – and how can I tell him what Peeves nearly did?"

James just gaped at her. She eyed him coolly before she turned away again, putting her hand back on the doorknob.

"I know you find second years annoying, Potter," she said, "but try not to humiliate them too, all right? I'd rather not get another detention because of you."

And with that she pushed open the door and swept into the classroom, leaving James, face burning, in her furious wake.

* * *

"It's official: she hates me."

Sirius should have seen it coming. It did not matter that they were halfway back down a tunnel that, as they had just discovered, led to Madam Rosmerta's cellars; that speculating as to what uses they could put the tunnel to was more interesting than discussing Lily Evans; nor that, just last week, James had maintained – in the face of all other evidence – that he did not fancy their fellow Gryffindor. Nor did it matter that he had just interrupted Sirius's opportunity to bask in Peter's praise of his ability to discover passages behind fourth-floor mirrors. Because James had, not many hours before, had his first, disastrous detention with Lily Evans and James Potter was not, by the large, the sort of person who was used to suffering in silence.

"Who cares?" said Sirius indifferently, betraying no irritation that James had cut Peter off mid-sentence. He'd probably rather listen to James anyway, even if it _was_ Evans his best friend wanted to talk about. He walked next to James, brandishing his lit wand in front of him. "Unless you like her more than you've been letting on."

"I think," said Remus dryly, from Sirius's right, "we can all agree Prongs likes Lily more than he cares to admit."

"No, I don't," said James, his tone resentful. "She's just a bird. S'just annoying, isn't it? Having someone hate you for no reason."

A soft snort from down the line, the other side of James. "You're not a very good liar, Prongs," Peter informed him. "The whole school knows you fancy her."

"Well, I didn't tell them," said James hotly. Sirius grinned, knowing his guilt was evident even in the dim light of his wand.

"_You _weren't telling her any time soon," he said. "And you didn't want her to start dating Moony, did you?"

"She was like bloody _ice _in detention."

"Well, if you will insist on hexing every male that speaks to her," said Remus, the amusement evident on his face.

"Evans doesn't seem to like it very much when you pick on people, does she?" said Peter – possibly a tad too cheerfully, Sirius thought with a wince. James was particularly sensitive these days where Lily Evans was concerned. Sirius was rather wary about that; he had been since the beginning of the year, when he'd noticed the first of James's Frowns. James's Frowns (so troubling they merited a capital letter) appeared, generally, whenever James had done something in an attempt to impress Evans and Evans failed to convey the sort of reaction James had hoped for. James's odd behaviour concerning the spirited red-head, however, had halted at these Frowns for a good while – probably because they had all been distracted perfecting the last stage of the Animagus transformation. But since they'd achieved that, James's preoccupation had increased dramatically; Sirius's best mate seemed determined to expend his newfound extra time and energy on chasing Lily Evans – a great waste, it seemed to Sirius, when there were plenty more fun things to do with one's time.

Luckily, Sirius knew a few of those would snatch even James's interest from Lily Evans.

"About the next full moon," he said loudly. "I've been thinking."

"_Shhh_," Remus implored, but James, who had, as expected, perked up immediately, threw a smirk in Sirius's direction.

"Was it painful?"

Sirius gave him a light nudge with his elbow but carried on. "I reckon we should leave the Shack."

"_Shhh_," said Remus again. Sirius waved away his concern.

"No one can hear us down here," he scoffed. "Anyway – "

"We must be nearly at the castle," Peter pointed out. Sirius shrugged but lowered his voice.

"Anyway, what d'you reckon?" he asked. "I thought it'd be quite fun to explore the Forest, you know – we're bound to be able to go further in as animals."

"Maybe we'll be able to find those blasted Acromantulas everyone's always insisting live in the Forest," James said with a grin. "Hey, we can feed a few to Moony!"

"_No, thanks_," said Remus firmly. His voice had become rather tight. "Don't you think it's a bit…dangerous running round school grounds?"

"Padfoot and Prongs are pretty big, though," said Peter. As the smallest animal, he should have been the most worried about going into the Forbidden Forest, but it seemed so long as he was clinging to James's antlers or on Sirius's back, he seemed all right.

"Yeah, we can handle you," said James. "Not like you get students wandering around in the middle of the night anyway, is it? Only us," he amended with a quick smirk.

They had reached the end of the tunnel: the back of the fourth-floor mirror was just ahead of them. Remus reached it first: he had the longest legs. But he stopped and turned to face them.

"It still sounds risky."

"Obviously," said James. "That's what makes it fun." He shared a grin with Sirius. But Remus still looked unhappy. Sirius clapped him on the shoulder.

"Look, mate," he said, "we became Animagi for a reason, and it wasn't so you could be cooped up in that Shack. Prongs and I are big enough; we'll keep you in check."

"Besides," James added, "who're you going to run into in the middle of the Forest?"

The slight sagging of Remus's shoulders, as always, gave him away: he could rarely stand up to a combined effort of James and Sirius. Apparently having reached the same conclusion as Sirius, James eased past Remus and pushed on the back of the mirror, which swung open.

"This was cracking work, Padfoot," he said loudly, climbing out of the hole and jumping down into the corridor. Remus followed him out, hushing him, but grinning ear-to-ear.

"The _Three Broomsticks' _cellars!" Peter could hardly conceal his glee as he jumped down after Remus. "It'll be dead easy for the Common Room parties."

"So long as Filch doesn't know about it," said James, his gaze flickering to Sirius, who eased his legs out of the tunnel hole first and jumped down, wiping his hands on his trousers.

"We're safe," he said. "There's no way Filch would've made me clean the mirror during detention if he thought there was a chance I'd find a tunnel." He turned to close the tunnel back up, trying to conceal his grin. He knew it was a particularly good find. They already knew of six other passages to Hogsmeade, four of which Filch knew about and guarded religiously. It was also a more comfortable route than most of the others – it was much wider, almost room-like, and the four of them had walked shoulder to shoulder until the very end, where it narrowed.

"We'd better get going," said Remus. "Don't want Filch to catch us and get suspicious."

Sirius snorted, doubtful that the idiotic caretaker would figure it out merely from their presence, but James merely hummed cheerily and so he allowed his best friend to steer him towards the Gryffindor Tower.

"Y'know," said Peter as they climbed the stairs to the fifth floor, "we need to start writing all this stuff down. I don't think I can even remember all the passages and secret rooms we've found."

James stopped dead in the middle of the staircase. "_Brilliant_, Wormtail," he said. Sirius wrinkled his nose. It was quite rare that Peter came out with anything particularly brilliant, and _writing things down_ did not rank particularly high on Sirius's list of brilliant ideas.

Peter turned around, looking predictably confused. "What?"

"Well, we _can_ write it all down, can't we? We could _make a map _of Hogwarts."

Sirius leaned over the bannister, unable to help the derision seeping into his voice. "And what good would that do us? Wormtail's the only one too stupid to remember where he's going."

"No," said James impatiently. "We could make a real-time map. That tracks what's going on around Hogwarts!"

"Is there even a spell for that?" Peter wrinkled his nose.

"Definitely. There is, isn't there, Moony?"

"There is," said Remus slowly with a small smile, "but it's ridiculously complicated."

James and Sirius exchanged smirks.

"Moony, we became Ani – "

"_SSSHHHH_!" Remus and Peter said together. James and Sirius merely grinned at one another and started up the stairs again.

"We could definitely manage it, though," said James airily as they wandered across the fifth floor corridor. _"Easy_. We could – "

Sirius had stopped listening. In fact, he had stopped walking. He was sure he'd heard something up ahead, and he remained very still for a second, his eyes scanning the corridor. Filch wasn't the type to hide – he liked to show himself as soon as possible, so as to catch students by surprise – but there was definitely _someone_ there.

"We're being watched," he said, interrupting James mid-sentence. "And it's not Filch." He pulled out his wand.

"_Homenum Revelio."_

The curtains at the end of the corridor rustled. Then a dark figure darted out, running in the opposite direction. Sirius and James lunged after it. James reached the figure half a second before Sirius, grabbing hold of the back of the person's robes, which fell back to reveal very greasy black hair.

"I don't believe this," said James. "Snivellus _again?_"

"You'd think he'd have learned after our last little lesson," Sirius growled as James tightened his grip on Snape, who was struggling furiously. The Slytherin spat and Sirius jumped back. "_Disgusting._"

"All right, let's just let him go back to his Common Room." Remus and Peter had caught up with them and Remus was eying them nervously. "He's out past curfew too – he'd be in just as much trouble as us."

Sirius snorted derisively. "If we let him go, he'll just keep sneaking around after us." He jabbed his wand sharply into Snape's ribs.

"He _did _catch us coming back the other night," said Peter, his voice nervous.

Sirius and James rounded on Peter just as Remus said, "_What _other night?"

Whilst Sirius might still think that James was rather too relaxed about Snape's suspicions, he knew James was right to decide that Remus shouldn't know about any of this. But Peter had _never _been able to keep his mouth shut when it came to any of the Marauders.

"_What _other night?" Remus repeated, looking between them.

"You know," Snape hissed, his smirk almost painful, "the other night. _The full moon_."

Remus reeled back as though he'd been slapped, his face draining of colour. Sirius stayed stock still, his wand raised, trying to work out if he ought to be hexing Peter or Snivellus.

"You remember, Lupin," Snape said, still in that slippery voice, "when you were oh-so-conspicuously absent and your little friends went running around all night."

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about," Sirius spat, finally levelling his wand on Snape.

"Oh, I'm almost _sure _I do, Black. Your little friend Lupin is a – "

"_Stupefy!"_ Sirius shouted, before any of them could move. Snape slumped in James's arms, and James let him drop roughly to the ground.

"Are you a bloody idiot?" he demanded, rounding on Sirius, whose eyebrows shot up.

"Are you joking?" he retorted. "Snivellus was going to – "

But they were distracted by a strangled sound. Their heads snapped round to see Remus running away in the opposite direction.

* * *

Remus Lupin might have been a Gryffindor but there were some things of which he was very, very afraid.

His biggest fear was the wolf. Not turning into the wolf, so much, because although he hated that part of himself, he was used to the transformation, terrible and painful though it was. No, he was primarily afraid of the wolf when it _took over_: when he no longer had control over himself and when he might bite or kill another human.

His second biggest fear was Dumbledore. James and Sirius, if they had known, would have scoffed at this because, really, what was so scary about a man so old no one seemed to know his exact age, who insisted on wearing ridiculously patterned robes every day? But Remus's fear was entirely explicable, because if Dumbledore ever found out about the Animagus project and how Remus had led his three friends so horribly astray, Remus would have to face the terrible disappointment in those twinkling blue eyes. Remus was so afraid of this possibility that he'd actually taken to avoiding Dumbledore's eye whenever he accidentally met the Headmaster in the corridor.

But Remus's third biggest fear was not much smaller than his second and that was that one day someone that was not James, Sirius or Peter was going to find out that he was a werewolf.

And it looked like that fear was terrifyingly close to realisation.

Remus ran all the way to Gryffindor Tower and to his dorm as though his life depended on it. In a way, it did. Because he could not face Snape – the terror in his eyes would surely give him away.

If it were not already too late…

When Remus stopped in the dormitory, he was hyperventilating. His hands were shaking, he noticed with some fascination; and he felt hot and cold all at once.

_You know, the full moon._

_You remember, Lupin, when you were oh-so-conspicuously absent…_

_Your little friends went running around… _Merlin. Did he know about the others too?

Remus's stomach clenched painfully. He was going to be sick.

But at that moment footsteps sounded on the stairs and suddenly James, Sirius and Peter tumbled into the room. They were still arguing.

"Who _cares _if we dumped him behind a curtain?"

"You basically just _confirmed _it – "

"Would you rather he'd bloody _said _it?"

"We could've talked our way out of it!" James was arguing, but as he pushed the door shut, he fell into silence as he met Remus's gaze.

"What…what did Snape mean?" Remus hated how his voice shook: how he could not even ask the stupid _question _without betraying how scared he was of the answer. But he held his ground, his eyes flickering between the three of them.

"Well, he bloody _knows_, doesn't he?" said Sirius furiously, glaring at James as Remus's stomach gave a painful lurch. "I _told _him – "

"He _knows_?" Remus interrupted. His usually calm voice came out as a high-pitched squawk, but he barely noticed. James visibly winced.

"Padfoot's exaggerating," he said, shooting Sirius a matching glare. "Snivellus doesn't _know. _He's just guessing."

"A guess that's totally bang-on target!" Remus croaked. It had been everything he feared; he had to make James _understand_, but his heart was pounding so painfully it was difficult even to form coherent sentences. "It's only a matter of time – "

"Exactly what I said," Sirius put in.

"For the last time, you don't understand him like I do!" James ran his hands back through his hair and crossed the room to the window before letting his arms fall back to his side as he turned around to face them. "Look, there's no way he's going to blab when it's only a hunch. If there's one thing Snivellus hates, it's being humiliated – that's why he won't say anything when he risks being wrong."

"Sorry, am I understanding this right? My life is riding on Snape's dislike of being wrong?" It was too much for Remus to handle; he reached out to hang onto his four poster bed. "Prongs!"

"What exactly do you propose we do, then? Scare him into silence? You know just as well as I do that if I hex him into next week, he'll take that as confirmation! And we'll have no way to keep him quiet then!"

James sounded so confident, so self-assured, that it was difficult not to believe him: James had a way of inspiring trust, even when the most incredible things came out of his mouth. And what he was saying made perfect sense, Remus realised, as he sank down onto his bed, still staring at James. They could not have a go at Snape – what if he _said _something to someone? But he _already _knew, Remus thought with dread – or as good as. And they had _no way _to keep his mouth shut.

Merlin. Everyone was going to find out. He was going to be expelled.

He suddenly closed his eyes, unable to look at James anymore, whose hazel eyes betrayed all the sympathy Remus did not want. But, out of nowhere, Peter's voice piped up, though it sounded very small and timid.

"Can't we…I dunno, get him expelled or something?"

_Oh, Merlin. _If only they could. But Remus was not, generally, in the habit of sacrificing others for himself – they could not just get someone else _expelled._ Snape would have to be doing something to merit expulsion; Remus could not going to go as far as framing him, however much he knew it was an easy solution to his problems.

"Brilliant," he heard Sirius breathe, and Remus opened his eyes in alarm. Sirius could not, surely, be taking this seriously? But his friend had started to pace. "He's always trying to sniff around to get us into trouble. And if he's expelled, no one will listen to him even if he _says _something – unknown surname…wand snapped…"

Remus opened his mouth to tell him, in no uncertain terms, that they had no way of getting Severus Snape expelled without dropping themselves in it, but James's eyes were bright and he got in there first.

"D'you know, Wormtail," he said, "this might just work."

"And just how do you propose doing this?" said Remus in an exasperated voice. His chest was still hurting; his senses felt numb. But he was _not _about to allow James and Sirius to make this whole thing worse.

Of course, it was questionable whether it could, in fact, _get _any worse.

"Got to goad him, haven't we?" James started to pace. "Subtly, of course – we don't want to be implicated, so it can't just be an ordinarily duel. We've got to provoke him to do something awful."

"What kind of awful?" Peter asked.

"Got to be Dark Magic, hasn't it?" Sirius replied promptly. "Idiot's up to his eyes in it." His eyes locked with James's again, and Remus had a horrible feeling where this was going.

"We've got to provoke him to curse me," said James. "Really badly."

"If we let him curse you with Dark Magic…mightn't that…" Peter trailed off, apparently not wanting to voice what he was thinking.

"We've only got to provoke him to cast the spell, haven't we?" Sirius scoffed. "Not to actually hit Prongs – so long as there are enough witnesses…"

"It wouldn't be enough, though, would it?" James had started pacing again. "It's got to be serious in order to be taken seriously – "

"Prongs, I'm not letting you get yourself killed for my sake!" Remus jumped to his feet again, his fear forgotten, briefly, in his horror at what his friends were suggesting. Sirius and James started scoffing together.

"He's not going to _kill _me – "

"As if Snivelly's got the guts – "

"Nah, he might do some damage, but Madam Pomfrey'll be able to fix it."

Remus stared, unable to believe the bravado James and Sirius were displaying. "Are you serious? You have no idea what he's capable of – he might maim you, you might lose a hand – "

"Moony's right," said Peter. Remus felt a rush of gratitude towards him – the only other person who appeared to keep their head when James and Sirius got too outlandish in their ambitions. "We've got to protect Moony's secret but it's not worth you putting yourself in danger, Prongs."

"What else do you suggest, Wormtail?" Sirius burst out, rounding on him. "How else are we going to get Snivellus expelled?"

_Oh God_. This could _not _be the only way. It was too cruel – too much to ask Remus to choose between keeping his secret and not allowing James to put himself in danger. He shut his eyes quickly, wondering if he could convince himself that this was some sort of nightmare.

"Look," said James, and Remus opened his eyes warily, "we've just got to set it up so if it looks _really _bad – one of you has got my back, yeah? So I'm not really in any danger." He grinned at Sirius, telling him he'd trust him with his life in a heartbeat. Sirius grinned back, confident, as ever, that they had it all sorted. But they never took _anything _seriously, Remus thought. His head was beginning to hurt. His secret or James. _His life or James's._

James, evidently, though he had made the decision for him. And it would be _so _easy just to cave into his friend, who would do anything to protect Remus's secret.

"You don't know what will happen," said Remus. "What if something goes wrong?" But he was already cracking, and they all knew it.

"It won't," said James firmly. "We'll plan it really carefully – c'mon, Moony, this is our only chance to silence Snape once and for all. _I _don't want him blabbing your secret – do you?"

"No, but I don't want you dead either," Remus mumbled. He sank back down onto his bed with his head in his hands. Sirius put his hand on his shoulder.

"It'll be fine, Moony," he said, sounding as confident as he always did. "We're the masters of planning. Nothing will go wrong."

No, Sirius Black was not in the habit of doubting himself, Remus thought later. But perhaps even he should have realised that a battle plan always looks much simpler on parchment than it ever does in practice.

* * *

**A/N: Please, please take a moment to review and let me know what you think. It is so maddening to see how many people have been reading this without leaving a review – I would love to know what you make of it so far.**


	5. Mounting the Offensive

**A/N: Thanks so much to those who left such kind reviews and I apologise profusely for how long this has taken. I've obsessed over this chapter. My poor partner's had to read it four times in various forms. I've accepted now that this will never be my favourite chapter but there's so much juicy stuff coming up I thought it was best just to press on. I hope you agree. Thanks for your patience.**

* * *

**Chapter Four: Mounting the Offensive**

**24****th**** March 1976**

He could see she was in a bad mood, even as he approached her. Even if the bowed head and hunched shoulders weren't giveaway enough, the ferocity with which she was stabbing her cereal with her spoon spoke of an irritation that should have told any sane person to keep away. But James had never been anything if not a risk-taker, and so instead of staying down his end of the table that morning, he hovered rather nervously above the seat opposite her.

"Er…Evans?"

She gave no sign that she had heard him, her red curls remaining bent over her breakfast. But there was no chance she could not have heard, James realised: she was just ignoring him. His shoulders sagged slightly: he had somehow hoped that overnight she would have forgotten all about their disastrous detention. He considered slinking away, leave her bad mood to wear off, but he caught himself in time. She was angry with _him_, as Remus had helpfully pointedly out repeatedly the night before, and that wasn't going to get better by itself.

He sat down.

"Evans?"

With an audible sigh, Lily Evans lifted her head to look at him. Her bright green eyes were narrowed into a scowl.

"What, Potter?"

Her tone was as sour as her expression and James self-consciously ran a hand through his hair. Lily's gaze travelled up to the wild mess on his head, her eyes narrowing. James dropped his hand quickly.

"I…er…just wanted to say sorry," he said. "For last Friday."

If he hadn't obsessed over this all night, scaring himself with every way it could go, he might have relished the expression of pleasant surprise not even Lily Evans could stifle quick enough.

"Sorry, what did you just say?" she asked. Her scowl had softened somewhat; James felt the back of his neck heating up uncomfortably and he dropped his gaze.

"Sorry," he said. "You know, for the thing with Boot. And for Sirius's song about Sniv…er, Snape on Monday." He caught himself just in time; he risked a look up to see if she'd noticed. But her expression was neutral – she was giving nothing away. He had to try harder, no matter how much humility was going to pain him. "You…er, you were right." He swallowed. "We were being bloody prats. I'm sorry."

The carefully schooled expression Lily had been sporting sagged: it looked as though it was all James's fellow Gryffindor could do to stop her jaw dropping into her cereal. But James couldn't decide if this was positive or negative, so he sat in silence, waiting for her to say something. She watched him for several agonising seconds before she dropped her gaze and picked up her spoon again.

"It's not _me _you owe an apology to," she said coolly.

_Ouch. _James winced but fought on regardless. "I know. I apologised to Boot out in the Entrance Hall about twenty minutes ago." _That_, frankly, had been downright humiliating, but Boot had thankfully been a good sport about it. And Lily's eyebrows had shot up at this news: perhaps it had all been worth it. He pressed on. "But I thought I should…er…say sorry to you too. It put you in an awkward situation, right? And it embarrassed you. So…yeah."

"But Severus – "

James felt like making rude noises every time he heard Snape's first name come out of Lily's mouth, but on this occasion he ignored it, cutting across her.

"I would've got Sirius to apologise to Snape, only you said you hadn't told him about the thing with Peeves." Lily's mouth closed again; James's uncertainty spiked. "But if you'd rather…" He trailed off, more unnerved by the second at Lily's silence. Her expression was unreadable again – he couldn't begin to speculate what she was thinking. _Shit. _This wasn't how he'd imagined it – she'd always _said _something, _anything…_ "Shall I leave?"

She said nothing, which just unnerved James further. Shoulders dropping again in dejection – Merlin, _what _did he have to do to make this right? – he rose to his feet, wondering if he should just steer clear of Lily Evans for the rest of his life.

"Potter." Her voice made him stop: he hovered awkwardly above the seat, hardly daring to draw any hope from the small twitches at the corners of Lily's mouth. "Tell me, Potter," she said, raising her eyes to meet his. "Have you ever apologised for anything in your life?"

James nearly snorted at this, but he forced himself to remain calm, confining his amusement to a small grin. "Yeah. Never where it could be overheard, though."

Her lips gave another twitch at this. "And Black?" she asked. "Will I be receiving the same beautifully composed apology from him?"

James strongly suspected she was poking fun at him. But the mention of Sirius distracted him; his smile dropped. The idea of Sirius apologising was almost laughable – James wasn't sure Sirius had ever contemplated the concept. "Er…"

To his surprise, Lily sat back in her seat and actually laughed – a wonderful, _brilliant _laugh that echoed over the voices of the people around them. "It's all right," she said with a grin. "I can't see Black apologising even if his life depended on it, can you?"

Her amusement was infectious: James felt his mouth pulling into another smile. "Sure it's all right?" he asked, leaning in conspiratorially. "I heard that song, you know. I reckon Sirius ought to apologise just for being crap at rhyming."

Lily snorted another laugh. "That's not a very nice thing to say about your best friend."

James opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment Marlene leaned across from where she was sitting next to Lily. He hadn't even noticed her there – she had been unusually quiet, but perhaps that was entirely to do with the fact that Gideon Prewett was sitting not two spaces down the table. Marlene had never possessed the self-control to keep her mouth shut. She eyed James briefly now, but chose not to comment. "Alice is moaning that Transfiguration's starting in a few minutes."

As Alice started protesting loudly that she would _never _moan about being late for Transfiguration, Lily turned away from James to gather up her bag and textbook. Seizing the opportunity, James darted around the end of the table so that he was standing right in front of her when she stood up. Her shock when she turned around was palpable; she eyed him suspiciously.

"What now?"

_Shit. _Now the moment was upon him, nerves were shaking him; his hand was back in his hair before he knew what he was doing. "Can I walk you to class?"

He was sure she'd say no straight away, but she was silent for a few seconds, her head cocked as she surveyed him. James had the strange sense that he was being weighed up in some way.

"All right," she agreed.

James felt his face split into a grin: he thought he might hug her. Instead he held out his hand. She stared at him in horror. "Potter, I'm not going to hold hands with you, if that's what you're – "

He almost laughed: even _he _was not that optimistic. "Bag, Evans." When she continued to gape at him, he took a step closer and slid his hand under her bag strap, transferring the weight from her shoulder to his hand, and then swinging it over his own bag. "Do you want me to take your textbook?"

"Er…no; not necessary." It was now her who seemed uncertain: she clutched her book to her chest almost possessively. James just grinned at her.

"Shall we?"

"Not going to carry _my _bag, James?" Marlene mocked from behind them.

"Strapping girl like you can manage her own bag," James threw over his shoulder. Admittedly Marlene McKinnon was not in the least bit strapping – though tall, she was very slender – but she was probably the only girl with whom he could have got away with it. Lily snorted as Marlene squawked in protest behind them.

"So you think I'm some weakling?" Lily asked him.

"Nah." He leaned over, voice lowered, trying to ignore the way his heart beat painfully hard when he was so close to her. "I just like you better. But don't tell Marlene. She'll be jealous."

Lily snorted again, recognising the joke. James had known Marlene since they were six, their parents being mutual friends, but the idea of Marlene being jealous was ludicrous: much to the disappointment of Mrs Potter, the relationship between James and Marlene had only ever been platonic.

They arrived at Transfiguration with seconds to spare; Professor McGonagall eyed them sternly as they tumbled through the door. Sirius, Remus and Peter were already in their usual seats, but James slipped behind them to put Lily's bag down on her desk as she sat down. Although he had never planned to go further than this, he found himself unable, suddenly, to stop himself contemplating the empty chair next to her. She looked at him curiously, and he found himself in an agonising moment of hesitation. Should he sit down next to her? Or leave her be – 'leave her wanting more', as Sirius put it?

The decision was made for him very quickly. He felt a sharp yank on the back of his robes, and he fell backwards, down into his usual seat between Sirius and Peter.

"Easy does it, Prongs," said Sirius cheerfully. _Smug git. _James could have hit him.

But when he risked a look over his shoulder, he saw that Lily, though she wasn't looking at him directly, had a small smile playing around her lips. And so it was that when James turned back to whatever Professor McGonagall was writing on the board, he was wearing a smile of his own.

* * *

Lily Evans was not the only one to start the morning in a bad mood, but Severus Snape's would certainly not be lifted by the likes of James Potter.

Severus was always irritable when he hadn't had enough sleep. That morning he was firmly blaming Rowan Nott, who had kept him up half the night with his stupid lecture on poisonous candles. He had been attending such meetings for years – they were all but made compulsory by Slytherin seventh years full of self-importance with no outlet for it but to lord it over the younger members of their own House. But Severus was becoming increasingly bored of them: he had probably read ten times the number of books on Dark Arts that the seventh years had, but he was forced to sit in silence while the seventh years boasted of the certainty of their future success in the Dark Lord's circle.

Severus wanted to shake all of them – Nott especially – by the shoulders and tell them to wake up. It was, unfortunately, still the case that those with certain surnames were welcomed by the Dark Lord with open arms, but it did not mean that His praise did not have to be earned. And if they were stupid (as some of them seemed set on being), death would be the price, whether they belonged to one of the 'Sacred Twenty-Eight' families (unsurprisingly designated by Nott's own great-grandfather) or not.

Severus was used to putting up with this rubbish by now, mostly satisfied with his own realistic outlook and convinced that once they were out of Hogwarts the Dark Lord would recognise his talents regardless of the fact he was named for a drunk Muggle. Still, he thought irritably the next morning, it would have been nice if on this occasion Nott's lecture had not continued into the early hours of the morning. Severus was sure he'd done it on purpose because Severus had been late: he'd only come round from Black's stunner at eleven o'clock.

_Black. Lupin. _Severus had not had time yet to properly dwell on Lupin's satisfyingly shocked reaction to his revelation, but he was surer than he ever had been that his suspicions were correct. The question was: what was he going to do about it?

He was contemplating this as he walked to breakfast the next morning, but it was difficult to think clearly when Mulciber was next to him, boasting loudly, as he was wont to do after the meetings with the seventh years.

"My father and uncle were on a raid just the other night," Mulciber had announced as they strolled down the dungeons corridor towards the Great Hall. "It only took _five minutes _of the Cruciatus Curse to send the old Muggle into insanity – "

It left Severus speechless, frankly, that anyone could be so idiotic as to boast of family crimes – because they _were _crimes to the Ministry, however normalised they appeared to have become to some – in such a loud voice. Worse, there was no way that Mulciber could possibly know this, since his father and uncle had never written to him with details of their activities – indeed, the Dark Lord was unlikely to permit such a thing. But Mulciber was ludicrously proud of his family's connections (social climbers, Avery liked to tell Severus in private) and no doubt had seen some article in the _Daily Prophet _to which he was now adding his own embellishments.

"The father was _begging – _honestly, how pathetic – "

Even though Mulciber was making it up, it occurred to Severus that the whole thing was probably not too far off the mark. Although Severus had done enough research and digging around to know that Muggles were not really the focus of the Dark Lord's campaign, he knew that Muggle-baiting was not discouraged amongst his followers. And he had read enough _Daily Prophet _articles to understand that if the Muggles weren't dead by the end of these activities, they might as well be. Severus had not examined _too _closely how he felt about that, but it seemed to him eminently sensible to practise things on Muggles so that one was very sure of oneself once faced with a stronger, wizarding opponent.

He wouldn't boast of it, though.

"And his wife was bloody _howling _– honestly, you'd never get a witch doing that, would you? Not the proper ones, anyway."

Severus had absolutely no doubt as to what Mulciber meant by 'proper' ones, but he bit his tongue. He had tried to defend Lily a few times, especially in the early years, by pointing out that not _all _Muggle-borns lacked talent, but Mulciber had quite quickly latched onto Severus's sympathies and had been so sinister about it that Severus had given that up a long time ago. It was easier to call them 'Mudbloods', to laugh at Mulciber's jokes, than to put himself – and Lily – in the firing line. Mulciber might have been an idiot at times, but he was a dangerous idiot and Severus preferred not to provoke him.

Luckily, on this occasion, it was Avery who came to the rescue.

"Be quiet, would you?" he said as they entered the Great Hall. "I've got a headache from that wine of Nott's last night. I'm sure he put something in it."

Of course he had – as soon as Severus had raised the goblet to his lips, he had caught the unmistakably whiff of a Traitor potion. Severus was only surprised it had not been used before. He had nothing to fear from it, but he knew Nott's strength was not potion brewing and had no desire to experience the aftereffects of a badly made brew, so he had emptied the liquid discretely into a third year's goblet when he'd had the chance. Evidently, Avery, who paid only cursory attention in Potions at best, had not noticed what Severus had. No wonder he had a headache.

Still, Severus remained silent as he slid into a seat at the Slytherin table; Avery never took kindly to insinuations that he had missed something. He helped himself to sausages and eggs, only half-listening to a debate Avery and Marcus Burke had started about the benefits of learning Defence Against the Dark Arts as his gaze, as usual, wandered over to the Gryffindor table, seeking out the familiar flash of dark red hair. He found Lily quickly, sitting next to McKinnon, though her shoulders were hunched over and she wasn't talking to anyone: a sure-fire sign she wasn't in a very good mood. Mornings, really, had never been Lily's thing – persuading her to meet with him before lunchtime at home was a real trial – but perhaps he could find some way of cheering her up.

He was about to look away – Burke had made some comment he disagreed with and he opened his mouth to say so – but at that moment a wiry figure with dark messy hair slid into the seat opposite Lily and Severus's words died on his tongue. _Potter. _He _hated _it when that smarmy git spoke to Lily. Potter had the whole bloody school wrapped around his little figure, and even though Lily could usually be counted upon to put Potter in his place, whenever the Gryffindor sidled up to Severus's friend he always felt a flicker of fear that she, too, might fall for his charm.

He tried to push the feeling down, but found he could hardly hear what Avery was saying as his gaze fixated on the Gryffindor table. Lily's back was to the Slytherin table, but it didn't look at all like her conversation with Potter was going in the usual way. Potter was grinning like an idiotic jack 'o' lantern; Lily had straightened up a little as if her bad mood had lifted somewhat. Potter said something; Lily sat back in her seat, her shoulders shaking.

Was she _laughing?_

"Hurry up, Snape, we've got Charms in a few," Avery said next to him, nudging him sharply with his elbow. The other Slytherins were standing up; Severus realised dimly that the Hall was already quite empty. Lily, too, had stood up, but Potter darted around the table; offered his hand.

He wanted to hold her hand! Severus thought wildly, but a second later Potter was taking Lily's bag from her and had fallen jauntily into step beside her, making some idiotic comment that made Lily laugh again. _Laugh. _She found him _amusing. _Not to laugh _at, _either, but to laugh _with._

It took all of Severus's self-control not to throw the knife he was holding at Potter's head.

"Come _on_; we'll be late," said Avery, with such forcefulness that Severus's attention snapped immediately from Lily to his House-mates, who were watching him impatiently. He pushed back his bench, grabbing his belongings as they sighed and tutted and he glowered. It wouldn't do to let them know who he had been watching, but it burned every time they thought him an idiot: like when he had told them he was having remedial Transfiguration classes when he had really been meeting Lily to study.

Still, he could not stop himself from glancing over his shoulder as they walked up the stairs, to where Lily and Potter were strolling towards the Transfiguration corridor. She was clutching her textbook to her chest; her face turned towards Potter (whose hands couldn't seem to stay out of his hair); and even though she was obviously attempting not to look too interested, her eyes were sparkling and before she could help herself, it seemed, her mouth split into another wide smile at something Potter said.

Severus had to force himself to keep moving up the stairs; to stop himself from throwing himself between Lily and Potter, from shouting at Lily to remember how much she hated his stupid smirks, how arrogant Potter was – Merlin forbid, at that moment he was so wound up he might tell her how _he, _Severus, felt…

"In the name of the Dark Lord, Snape, if you don't hurry up I'll curse you myself," said Mulciber irritably. "What are you staring at anyway?"

He craned his neck towards where Severus had been staring, but his interest jerked Severus out of his reverie: he snapped his head back round to his friends and took several steps up the stairs. He did _not _want to get Mulciber started on his friendship with Lily that morning.

"Nothing," he said hastily. "Are we going or what?"

* * *

_I still think _I _should be the one to ask her._

_Get over yourself, Prongs. She doesn't like you THAT much. Not yet, anyway._

_What makes you think she'll say yes to Moony, then?_

_She likes Moony. _

_Shut it, Wormtail. I was asking Padfoot. _

Unable to think of anything wittier, James scribbled the last line and shoved it back towards Peter as Professor Sprout turned her back to tend to her Dancing Dahlias. There couldn't be more than five minutes until the end of the lesson; having spent most of it outside transferring Bulbous Bay Trees from pots to the ground, they were now supposed to be writing up a report they would finish for the next lesson. It looked like James was going to be doing a lot of homework: he'd spent most of the last twenty minutes having a silent argument with his friends about their lunch plans. Even Sirius was refusing to side with him.

He snatched back the parchment before Peter could reply and started scrawling again.

_You weren't there in the Great Hall. I made her laugh. More than once._

_Right proper Romulus the Romantic, aren't you? _came Sirius's swift and sarcastic reply. Furious, James started scribbling again –

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Remus muttered. Before James could stop him, he leaned across his workbench and tapped the redhead in front of him sharply on the shoulder. Lily whipped around, looking so thoroughly relieved to be distracted from her Herbology report that James nearly sniggered in spite of himself.

"What?" she whispered.

"We're having lunch outside," Remus said in a low voice. Luckily Sprout was still tending to her Dahlias and didn't appear to hear him – she did not take kindly to talking in her class. "We were wondering if you three wanted to join us."

Lily's eyebrow twitched and James knew she was dying to raise it sceptically. Instead her eyes flickered in his direction before settling back on Remus. "We were going to have lunch with our friends in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. You know – Dorcas Meadowes and that crowd."

"Bring them along," said Remus immediately. Lily still looked rather doubtful and he smiled. "It's up to you, of course. But we thought this sort of weather ought to be appreciated in better style than by planting Bay Trees."

James would never get over how Remus was always able to apply just the right amount of pressure without making it appear at all obvious that he was doing so. He'd invited Lily's friends; he'd made the weather seem appealing; he'd even made it appear a sort of rebellion against Herbology. He knew before Lily had even finished consulting with Alice and Marlene that she would agree.

"We probably need to run up to the dormitory to get our cloaks," she said in a low voice, turning back to Remus. "It's a bit chilly. And we need to let the others know. Can you get enough food for everyone?"

"Of course."

"Thanks." Lily smiled brightly and turned back to her report. James was so focused on staring at the back of her head that he didn't realise Sirius had stolen their piece of parchment before his best friend threw it back at him.

_See? She likes Moony best._

"Shove off, Padfoot," James muttered, but it was only half-hearted. He was too elated by the prospect of a picnic with Lily Evans.

* * *

Severus had had a great deal of practice in hiding things, but it was a great struggle to maintain a bored expression during double Charms that morning while his thoughts were all over the place. He had not spoken to Lily in a few days, he realised – not since Potions on Friday. She had been mysteriously elusive all weekend, and though he usually saw her on Tuesday evenings to study, he had skipped it the night before to spy on Potter and his friends. He regretted it now. Had he somehow missed all the time she was spending with Potter? Had she meanwhile forgotten about Severus?

He was going to talk to her, he thought, and make her remember what an arrogant idiot Potter was. He made up his mind to grab her at lunch.

But Lily was not at lunch. In fact, hardly any of the Gryffindor fifth years were – McKinnon and Hornwick were absent, as were, much to Severus's disgust, Potter and his gang. His thoughts immediately jumped to the possibility that they were all together, but he pushed the fear angrily away: it was the first nice weather they'd had in a long time and there were a number of empty seats around the Hall. But anxiety prickled at the back of his mind, and he wasn't convinced. He had to make sure. So he bolted down his lunch quickly, ignoring Avery, who wanted to copy his Potions homework before class, and dashed outside, scanning the lawn for a flash of copper red hair.

He found her in an instant. They were not difficult to spot – there must have been ten of them by the lake. He squinted in the sun. Most of the students were Lily's friends and were lounging on the grass, lying or sitting on their cloaks, but Lily was on her feet, with two figures that Severus realised with a jolt were Potter and Lupin. They had one of Lily's hands each and appeared to be attempting to drag her towards the water. She was shrieking and resisting, but laughing so hard it really lost any of its effect, and no one watching would have believed that she wasn't enjoying herself.

Severus felt sick.

"She's something, isn't she?"

Severus whipped round at the voice, his hand already plunging into his pocket as he came face to face with Sirius Black. Severus had thought he was by the lake too, but now he realised he had only been looking for Lily and Potter and he had skimmed over everyone else. _Careless_.

"You stay away from her, Black," Severus spat, levelling his wand between Black's eyes. Arrogant Gryffindor that he was, Black merely smirked.

"You should know by now it's not _me _who's interested, Snivellus." He tilted his chin over Severus's shoulder. Loath to tear his eyes from Black, Severus kept his wand trained on the Gryffindor and turned his head quickly to see what he was referring to. He was just in time to see Lily wrench her hand away from Lupin and throw herself at Potter, darting around him and grabbing him from behind to use as a sort of human shield. The look of satisfaction on Potter's face was enough to make Severus want to punch something.

"She seems quite keen on him too, doesn't she?"

Severus never would have admitted it to _Black, _of all people, but it was undeniably true that Lily was not pushing Potter away – she was _voluntarily touching him_, for Merlin's sake– and her laughter could be heard even from where he was standing. He wracked his brains, trying to think of the last time she had laughed like that with him and drew a blank. Panic rose in his throat. It was true they seemed to be arguing more these days, but it hadn't _really _been that long, had it?

"She'd never go out with _him_," he spat, rounding on Black and raising his wand higher, an inch from Black's eyebrows. Black merely reached out, snatched the wand from Severus's grasp so fast Snape hardly had time to blink, and threw it as far as he could across the lawn.

"We'll see," he said, and pushed past Snape to saunter towards his friends by the lake.

Severus walked several steps to retrieve his wand; he picked it up from the grass and rubbed it on his robes. Black had joined the group, and was now busy helping Lupin push both Potter and Lily into the lake. Lily was shrieking again and clutching hold of Potter, who looked far too pleased about the whole thing.

Severus clutched his wand tightly. The urge to curse Potter into next week was almost overwhelming. It would be _so easy…_

Except it wouldn't be. Because he was bound to hit Lily too.

It was with great regret that he turned away, back towards school, pocketing his wand. But as a great shout of laughter rose up from behind him – laughter that could only belong to that bespectacled buffoon – Severus made up his mind that Potter would _not _be allowed to get away with this. Potter got _everything – _the Quidditch skill, the admirers, the good marks he _certainly _didn't earn…

He would not be allowed to have Lily too.

* * *

But if Snape hoped to be able to speak to Lily in Potions, he was to be sorely disappointed. Lupin, who had seemed perfectly healthy at lunchtime, was mysteriously absent during the afternoon double period (though Severus _knew _it wasn't a full moon). Potter somehow persuaded McKinnon to partner with him, leaving Lily to work with Alice Hornwick rather than Snape. It was all too rotten luck for words.

He watched them all, fuming, only marginally placated by the fact Potter and McKinnon had to be the most disastrous Potions pairing he'd ever seen. Naturally, Snape thought scornfully, Potter found the whole thing hilarious: hardly able to contain his laughter when their potion blew sky high, sending the other Gryffindors ducking for cover, even unperturbed that he was now covered in remnants of Draught of Living Death. Or what was _supposed _to be Draught of Living Death, anyway.

"_Snape_ – honestly, are you going to do any of this, or do I have to do it all?"

Avery's impatient voice beside him made Snape turn his head, one eyebrow raised, withering retort already on the tip of his tongue. But then he saw Avery's hand hovering over the potion, frog guts clutched in one gloved hand.

"_Watch it_," he hissed, grabbing Avery's arm and forcing him to drop the guts on the chopping board. "You fool. They're not supposed to be added for another twenty minutes."

"How was I supposed to know?" Avery demanded, looking very sullen. He did not like to be ticked off.

"It's written in black and white in front of you," said Snape impatiently, peering into their cauldron. It was lucky he'd started to pay attention: Avery had clearly been on the brink of wrecking their potion to the same extent as Potter's. As it was, it would not be brilliant, but perhaps it could be rescued… He reached for the mandrake juice still sitting on the bench.

"You know I'm no good at Potions," Avery was complaining beside him. "It's not my fault if you're too busy watching a Mudblood to help me."

Snape gritted his teeth but said nothing: protesting that Lily did not deserve to be called a Mudblood would only provoke Avery further. Instead he said: "I wasn't watching Evans; I was watching Potter."

"_That_ blood traitor?" Avery said. He sat back down as Snape started stirring their potion, adding in drops of Mandrake juice as he went. But Avery's words made Snape look up sharply. He had never heard Avery call Potter that before – as far as most of the Slytherins seem to be concerned, Potter was a prat but he was a pureblood and that made him largely beyond reproach.

"What makes you say that?" he asked carefully.

Avery's face twisted in disgust. "Haven't you seen the way he's been fawning over Evans today?"

"It put me right off my lunch." Mulciber had turned around; his black eyes flashed in his thick-set features. "I don't know how he can stand to touch it personally. It's a miracle he's not turned Mudblood himself."

Snape kept himself from rolling his eyes and pointing out that blood purity was, in fact, not contagious: if it were, perhaps he'd be treated with a bit more respect in his own House. He continued stirring the potion.

"The question is," Mulciber said, "what are we going to do about it?"

"_Do _about it?" Snape asked sharply, his gaze snapping up to look at his fellow Slytherin.

"Obviously," Jugson drawled, turning around from where he had been working next to Mulciber. "Can't just have Potter running after Mudbloods. It's disgusting. He needs to be reminded of his place. And _she _needs to be reminded of hers."

This last sentence sent such an icy shiver down Snape's back that it was all he could do to keep himself from visibly shuddering. "Don't be fools," he said, trying to sound nonchalant though his heart was hammering. "You can't do anything in Hogwarts – especially touching Dumbledore's precious Gryffindors." He didn't care one iota about Potter, but if they touched _Lily_…she was powerful and quick, but against the likes of Mulciber…

"Of course we can," scoffed Avery, whose father was on the governing board of Hogwarts and who was therefore unlikely to be expelled even if he was caught with his wand over Potter's unconscious body. But now Marcus Burke had turned around and Burke, whilst a thug with the best of them, could usually be counted on to say something sensible.

"Snape's right," he said. "It's nice to think you'd be able to give Potter and that Mudblood what they deserve but you'd never get away with it. Not without being sure Potter wouldn't blab."

"Don't talk rubbish," Mulciber said sharply. "Snape's only saying that so we don't have a go at his precious Mudblood."

Snape's blood turned to ice, the way it always did whenever Mulciber latched onto his friendship with Lily. Of all of them, Mulciber was the really nasty one: Mulciber would be the one Snape would be most afraid of exposing Lily to. Brought up by his father and uncle, both already indoctrinated into the Dark Lord's circle, if Mulciber was to be believed, Mulciber's knowledge of Dark Arts was almost as rich as Snape's and appeared to have no appreciation of when to use them. A Slytherin first-year had borrowed Mulciber's quill without asking the previous week and had been rewarded with a Blinding Curse that, luckily, one of the seventh years present had known how to undo, else it might have been permanent. Mulciber's school record was littered with incidents such as this – or, at least, it would have been if any of the Slytherins had snitched on him. But Slytherins did not tell on their own – not unless they could see something in it for them, and what would be in it for them but Mulciber's wrath and vengefulness?

But Snape was usually quite adept at fending off Mulciber's interest in his friendship with Lily – and Avery's too. Merlin knew he'd had enough practice.

"Of course not," he said. "Else I'd be telling you to curse Potter all you wanted, wouldn't I?" Inwardly, he was cursing Potter himself – to hell and back. If Mulciber hurt Lily because Potter was showing too much interest in her…

But that would be the outcome unless Snape did something about it – for as he twisted around a fraction of an inch, he saw that Lily was now helping Potter to fix his potion, a broad grin on her face and a satisfied smirk on Potter's. No, Potter was not going to back off, and that was only going to bring Mulciber's and Avery's fury down on him and Lily.

"You should be adding the frog intestines now," Slughorn announced from the front of the class. "I'll be coming round to inspect your potions shortly – and giving you an estimated grade. If it's not a passing grade, I'll be requiring you to do it again." He grinned broadly and wagged his fat finger, as though this was some great joke. Snape grimaced, turning hurriedly back to his potion and peering at it. Perhaps he could get away with adding the frogs guts in five minutes…

Attention sufficiently diverted from the problem of Potter, Snape pushed the issue to the back of his mind, determined to examine it later and come up with some sort of a plan.

* * *

Naturally, James Potter himself was completely oblivious to the fact he had been the topic of less than pleasant conversation during their Potions class. His mind was focused on more important things.

"I still say I should've asked Evans to partner with me," he complained as he entered the fifth-year dormitory. He threw his bag onto his bed from the doorway before collapsing onto Sirius's four poster.

"_Oi_," said Sirius, throwing himself on top of his best friend, who groaned under the weight.

"Padfoot…weigh…a ton…"

"All right, there, skinny boy?" Sirius asked with a grin, digging his elbow into James's back.

Remus sniggered from where he was lying (having skived off Potions for the last two hours) and Peter sat on the edge of his own bed, setting his bag down at his feet.

"Now, listen up, you skinny git," said Sirius, as James wheezed underneath him. "Evans isn't stupid. If you're too keen and all over her, she's going to smell a rat. And it won't be Wormtail for once."

"_Hey."_

"Sorry, mate," said Sirius, with an apologetic look in Peter's direction. "But you've acted like a right and proper prat in front of her for the whole year, so if you're suddenly on your best behaviour, she's going to _wonder why_. Now do you want to get the girl or not?"

"I thought the whole point of this was to help Moony, not get Prongs a girlfriend," said Peter.

"Course it is," said Sirius, shifting his weight so that James spluttered further. "But none of this is going to work unless Evans will say yes to stag boy here when he asks her to Hogsmeade."

"You really think that'll tip Snivellus over the edge?" Peter leaned forward, his excitement palpable.

"Only thing we know that will," said Sirius cheerfully. "We've just got to make sure we've wound Snivellus up enough beforehand so when Prongs finally does ask her to Hogsmeade – obviously near McGonagall cos she's the strictest – Snivelly snaps." He shifted his weight again and James gasped. "Only if this idiot gets ahead of himself, Evans will think he's a massive prat and won't say yes to him."

James wheezed something incoherent.

"What's that, Prongs?"

With a grunt, James extracted his arms from underneath him and shoved Sirius off before rolling off the end of the bed and onto his feet.

"I _said_ that if I'm dead from suffocation she won't say yes either."

"Hmm." Sirius rolled over so he was lying on his side. "You're just lucky you've got us here, mate. And it's worth our while to help you win over Evans."

Remus cleared his throat. "I'd just like to go on record as saying – "

"That you think this is a stupid idea, Moony. Yeah, you've said," Sirius interrupted. "But we went over and over this last night. How else are we going to get Snivelly expelled?"

"We could just _not _get him expelled," said Remus, frowning.

James straightened up from where he was bent over, regaining his breath. "What, so he can tell the school about your furry little secret? No _way."_ He leaned against Sirius's bed post. "Look, we've got it all worked out, right? You three will have my back when Snivelly does get all upset."

"I don't know why you even think Snape's stupid enough to curse you in front of a teacher," Remus muttered, shaking his head. For all his complaining, however, he'd already gone along with it – from pushing James and Lily together (which he would have done for James anyway) to bunking off Potions that afternoon. James thought it was probably due to the level of forcefulness with which he and Sirius had defended this plan all last night: they had thought of everything, from keeping Remus out of it as far as possible so that Snape's attention would not be drawn to him, to contingency plans should Lily not be quite as charmed by James as they'd hoped (because, they all agreed, he had not been too successful to date). Remus's acquiescence was also undoubtedly borne of the stark fact that they had no other realistic choice.

But he was still watching James and Sirius unhappily now, his eyebrows creased into a deep frown. "How do you know he'll curse you the way you want?"

"He won't be able to _help _himself, Moony," said James with a grin. "That's what's so brilliant about it."

"And Evans won't be able to help _herself_ once we're through with her," said Sirius slyly, lightening the mood and earning himself three groans and a pillow to the head from Peter.

* * *

The girls' dorm might have been much tidier than the boys', but the girls' entrance to their bedroom was no less chaotic: Marlene had fallen onto the closest bed straight away, kicking off her shoes so hard that one flew into the wall and the other narrowly missed Lily's head as she came through the door. Lily, for her part, dumped her bag in the middle of the floor before collapsing back-first onto Alice's bed.

"_Hey_, you've got your own bed!" Alice said.

"But I smell like frog guts and the Draught of Living Death," Lily said, rolling around on Alice's bed as if by rubbing off the stench onto the sheets this would somehow endear her to her friend. "I don't want _my _bed to smell."

"Charming," said Alice, but she fell onto her bed next to Lily, propping herself up on the pillows and stretching her legs out in front of her. "I know you don't like Potions, Lily, but that was a good lesson. For once I was working with someone who could actually brew."

"Speak for yourself," said Marlene from where she was lying. "James is even worse at Potions than I am, and that's saying something. I am _never _partnering with him again."

"Bad luck, Marls," Alice sang. "I'm not letting Lily go for anything."

"You'll have to," said Marlene. She half-sat up, propping her upper body up onto her elbows so she could see them. "Lupin'll be back next lesson. Though _Merlin _knows where he went off to. He was all right at lunch."

"He's always ill," said Alice. She paused. "Maybe he's got some sexy disease and he's dying…"

Lily snorted from where she lay near Alice's stomach. "What's sexy about disease?"

"What's sexy about _Lupin_, more like," Marlene muttered. "He's too bloody _nice_. And half the time he looks like he's suffering from the world's worst hangover."

"Hey, Lily fancied him for a bit, don't forget!" Alice reminded her with a grin. Lily groaned and covered her face with her hands.

"Am I _ever _going to live that down?" she moaned. "I'm never telling you two about my crushes again."

"You don't need to, Evans," said Marlene with a sly grin. "It's pretty obvious who you like."

It was Lily's turn to prop herself up on her elbows. "Who?"

"James! Obviously!" Marlene cackled as Lily covered her face with her hands.

"I _don't _fancy Potter!" she said, her face hot.

"Come on, Evans, you might've been shrieking like a banshee, but we could all see how much you liked clinging onto him," said Marlene. She was grinning, evidently enjoying herself. Lily twisted round to look at Alice in despair.

"Alice! Tell her she's barmy!"

But Alice looked shifty. "Phyllis asked me if you two were a couple at one point, Lil."

"If we were a…?" Lily spluttered, looking between her friends in bewilderment, but a feeling of guilt was already creeping up on her – because she _had _enjoyed James's company that day, hadn't she? He hadn't been obnoxious once – more than that; he'd been witty and charming and they'd had lots of fun at lunch. And although she'd initially clung onto James out of determination not to be thrown into the lake, she'd found she'd actually quite _liked _the close proximity – the heat radiating from his body and the smell of something indecipherable but _nice _and undeniably James.

"Merlin's cracked toenail," she said, falling onto her back again. "I _can't _fancy James Potter."

"I thought you already did a bit," said Alice. She reached down to play with Lily's hair. She was always lamenting her whispy, mousy-brown hair and comparing it to Lily's fiery curls. "Remember? If he asked you out you were going to say you would if he stopped being a total toerag."

That was true. Lily rubbed her face with one hand. "But he wasn't a toerag today. Was he? It's bloody difficult to remember to dislike him when he's not being a prat."

"Good point," said Marlene. "Why _wasn't _he being a git?"

They were all silent for a few moments before Alice let out a sudden giggle; both Lily and Marlene stared at her.

"Sorry," she said, taking her hand away from her mouth. "It's just it's obvious, isn't it? His friends have taken control. Remember in Transfiguration, when Sirius forced him to sit with them, when he was going to sit next to Lily? And it was Remus who invited us for lunch."

There was a split second while Lily and Marlene contemplated this, before they let out identical snorts.

"Hilarious," said Marlene, wiping an imaginary tear from her eye. "Even his friends think he's incompetent."

"I think it's sweet he's trying so hard," Alice defended, but her round face was lit up by a smile.

"But why _now?"_ Lily asked. "He's been an idiot for months." But perhaps she didn't really need to ask – because hadn't it only been yesterday that she had lost her temper with him, and told him he needed to grow up? Wasn't it entirely feasible he'd gone back to the dormitory and told his friends, who had decided to take him in hand? And so maybe…maybe she'd found a way to persuade him to stop being a toerag before he'd ever asked her out. Maybe she wouldn't _have _to turn him down after all.

"I thought he must be up to something this morning, you know," said Marlene. She lifted a hand to inspect her nails. "James never apologises. But I really think he is just on his best behaviour."

"Long may it continue," Lily murmured. There were calls of 'here, here' from Alice and Marlene before they moved onto the less controversial topic of their friend Winnie Ethelberger's new haircut.

But Lily's mind remained lingered on James Potter. And the possibility that he might just turn out to be decent.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to review! Next chapter will be a MUCH shorter wait, I promise!**


	6. The Art of Diplomacy

**A/N: Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who reviewed/favourited the last chapter; you totally made my week. In answer to one particular review: in line with canon, the 'Willow Incident' will take place in fifth year, before the events of Snape's Worst Memory.**

* * *

**Chapter Five: The Art of Diplomacy**

**27****th**** March 1976**

Severus thought it would get better, but it didn't. It got worse.

He'd been under the impression that he hadn't seen much of Lily recently, but suddenly she seemed to be everywhere, with her beautiful laugh and her radiant smile. And Potter was never far behind – performing some idiotic joke with Black, offering to carry her books, messing up his _stupid _hair to give a windswept look Severus could never hope to achieve. He'd actually tried it, on Friday night, but his hair had remained stubbornly limp and lank, before Severus had tried to charm it and had ended up looking like he'd stuck his fingers into a Muggle plug socket. He hadn't quite managed to fix it before his dorm mates had come in. Avery had nearly wet himself laughing.

It was just so _unfair. _Potter was good at _everything _and everyone, with the exception, perhaps, of some of the Slytherins, couldn't get enough of him. Severus had never considered himself so pathetic as to be jealous of James Potter, but it dawned on him, as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror comparing his skinny white chest with what he imagined to be Potter's Quidditch-toned body, that jealous was precisely what he was. The thought had made him want to yell and smash up the whole dorm, but instead he had simply leaned, scowling and shivering, against the mirror, wondering what had changed.

He knew. Of course he knew. It had never mattered how clever or likeable Potter was, because _Lily _had never liked him. But however much Severus had hoped that that first day had been a fluke and that Lily would snap out of it, he had seen her slightly shy smile and the way her eyes sparkled as she spoke to Potter and he knew he'd been wrong. What a bloody _fool _he'd been, to think that Lily wouldn't be blinded by Potter's charm like every other damned person in the school!

It had only been a few days but it seemed like an eternity, he thought as he sat in the dungeons on Saturday night, ignoring those around him and brooding on the fact that today had been Potter's birthday. As he sat listening to another pointless lecture Severus could have recited backwards in his sleep, Lily was up in the Gryffindor Common Room enjoying the festivities her House were no doubt holding for their star Chaser. She'd even given Potter a _present. _Severus knew – in fact, the whole stupid _school _knew – because Potter had made a fool of himself thanking Lily in such an exaggerated fashion that even his friends had mocked him. Lily had blushed a deep, dark red that made Severus's blood boil. All for a bloody box of chocolates.

It was enough to make anyone sick.

And it seemed to be all he could think about: it was occupying all his thoughts during the day and keeping him awake at night, creeping into his dreams even when he managed to fall asleep. If only, Severus thought resentfully as he glanced around the small room the Slytherins used for these lectures, Nott had allowed _him _to give this lecture: that would have distracted him. He could have given the lecture: all the seventh years' materials were derived from a collection of books Severus had read cover to cover twice and more besides. But he had offered to give a lecture once before and Nott had looked at him with such pitying contempt that Severus's cheeks still burned angrily thinking about it. He had resolved never to offer again, and so he was stuck obsessing over Lily and James Potter while Nott droned on at the front.

At least everyone else seemed to be oblivious to the fact Severus's thoughts were on anything but the development of Dark curses. In fact, several others looked miles away – and not, Severus thought scathingly, because they could afford to, as he could. Jugson – who, frankly, had trouble stringing two written sentences together – actually had his eyes closed, while several of the third years, the youngest present, looked like they were desperately trying to stay focused on concepts that were well beyond them.

Burke, on the other hand, looked sharp and alert, as did Mulciber – a sure occurrence whenever anything particularly dark was being discussed – but both of them were watching Nott intently, ignoring their distracted dorm mate behind them. Avery, somewhat surprisingly, was actually making notes – no doubt because he saw this as an opportunity, finally, to match Severus's skill in creating hexes and curses.

_Fine chance of that, _Severus thought. _He _had been developing such spells for years: it took imagination, patience and a deep appreciation for how Dark Magic worked in order to achieve any results. Avery, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, could not wait for anything: he expected everything to appear at his fingertips and became instantly restless if he had to put in even a small amount of effort.

Satisfied that the people around him were well distracted from Severus in some way or another, Severus sank back into the back of his seat, his thoughts returning to Lily. He wondered what she was doing at that moment. He had never, of course, been to a Gryffindor party, but he had heard enough from Lily to provide enough furnishings for his imagination: probably she was perched on the edge of a deep red settee, sipping Butterbeer and laughing with her friends – or perhaps at one of Potter's stupid jokes – while he, Severus, was slouched on a hard chair in the third of these pointless meetings this week…

"-And it's about time someone did something about Potter fawning over that Mudblood; it's a disgrace."

He had not been paying attention. But at Potter's name, Severus suddenly sat bolt upright and had said, "What?" before he could stop himself. A few people around him tittered: the animosity between Severus and Potter was well known. Severus ignored them, his heart hammering. He had heard Potter's name in conjunction with 'Mudblood', and there was only one person of that description that they could mean…

"You must have noticed," said Rabastan Lestrange a little impatiently. Although Nott – considered by most to be the most superior in blood terms of the seventh years – gave the appearance of being in charge of these gatherings, it was really Lestrange who controlled them. Also a seventh year pureblood, he was sharper than his older brother had ever been, and no less cruel. He was not someone to get on the wrong side of. He eyed Severus coldly now, his blue eyes hard. "Potter's been all over that Evans filth."

"Careful, that's Snape's Mudblood you're talking about," came Burke's sly voice from in front of Severus. Severus felt like whipping out his wand and hexing the back of Burke's head. But perhaps he should have expected it: Burke never missed an opportunity to get in a dig at anyone.

"You're not still going around with that muck, are you, Snape?" Wilkes, a sixth year with far too much arrogance for Severus's liking, looked amused, though the dangerous edge to his voice made it sound more like a threat than a question.

Severus ignored him. "The fifth years discussed this the other day," he said. "We agreed nothing could be done under Dumbledore's nose. Potter's father's a school governor, for a start." It left an unpleasant taste in his mouth to say it – he would have liked nothing better than to have set the whole of Slytherin on Potter's smirking face – but he knew he could not behave too protectively of Lily alone, lest he raised his fellow House-mates' suspicions.

"Well, obviously, it's not _Potter_ we'd be teaching the lesson to," Lestrange drawled. Severus's blood turned to ice. Somehow it had never occurred to him that they would blame Lily rather than Potter. But of course they would – because Potter's misdemeanour was a mere transgression, whereas Lily's, in trying to attract a pureblood, as they saw it, was tantamount to treason. Severus hated Lestrange at that moment, with his sneer and blood that made him think he was entitled to do as he pleased. But he was aware, somewhere deep inside him, that he hated Potter even more: _he _was the one going after Lily; _he _was the one making her a target, with no thought for anyone but himself. The thought made Severus want to storm up to Gryffindor Tower and blast James Potter into pieces.

"We should make an example of Evans," Mulciber spat. "Send a message that Mudbloods can't get away with this."

Severus said nothing – what _could _he say, without making it look like he was protecting Lily? Luckily, Burke swooped in instead – though he liked to watch others squirm, and was no doubt enjoying Severus's discomfort, he was never stupid.

"Let's be serious," he said. "It's a nice idea but, like Snape said, Dumbledore would never tolerate it."

"Who cares about that Muggle-loving idiot?" asked Avery.

"No one here," Burke returned sharply, "but not all of us have dads on the governing board, Avery."

"_Enough."_ The bickering, which had started to resonate in low murmurs across the small room, ceased immediately at Lestrange's commanding tone. His narrow eyes surveyed the room, and Severus watched him worriedly, trying to keep his face blank while his heart hammered so hard it threatened to burst out of his ribcage. The seventh years would call the shots: if they wanted to make Lily pay, the rest of them would be expected to fall into line; if they decided to leave her alone, Lily would be safe.

"We wait," Lestrange announced eventually. "Potter's all over her but he's not actually done anything about it. Any message we sent now might not be clear enough; he isn't quite a blood traitor yet. No, we wait until the opportune moment."

Rabastan Lestrange had a frustrating habit of using vague phrases without defining them and typically he did not now move to explain when the opportune moment might be. Perhaps, most likely, he did not know himself. Certainly it seemed that he was waiting for something to happen – for Potter to make some move that would make his allegiance obvious. And though Lestrange would not be _too _afraid of expulsion, being so well connected, he would no doubt want to ensure, if possible, that the teachers would not find out who the culprits were.

_Right_, Severus thought, his heart slowing down somewhat as Nott dismissed them all and chairs started to scrape back and murmurings rose around him. _So she's safe for the moment. _But it would not take much, he realised – Lestrange must have meant that he was waiting for Potter to actually go out with Lily, or to be caught kissing her, or _something… _The thought made Severus's stomach churn: _surely _Lily wouldn't allow it…! But he couldn't be sure – not the way she had been behaving. And if she _did _go out with him, he would be clinging onto the thin hope that Lestrange simply did not want the aggravation of being caught cursing Lily.

"Coming, Snape?" Rosier asked beside him.

Severus nodded mutely. He _had _to talk to her, he realised: he had to make her see sense. She _couldn't _go out with Potter.

Severus's abilities in the Dark Arts might outstrip the knowledge of the idiots around him by miles, but Lestrange alone knew enough to cause Lily some very serious damage. Combine him with Nott or Mulciber, and Severus did not like to think of the consequences.

_Curse _James Potter and his self-centred arrogance, Severus thought furiously as he followed his House mates out of the concealed entrance to the room. He'd make James Potter pay for this. And if Lily got hurt because of him… Severus's hand twitched towards his pocket before he gave himself a mental shake.

Lily first. Then he'd deal with James Potter and his bloody hair.

* * *

**28****th**** March 1976**

By all accounts, James should have been feeling pretty pleased with himself. The plan was going pretty well, even by Sirius's critical count: he'd carried Lily's bag to lessons three times in three days; he'd partnered her in Charms and impressed her with his knowledge of Colour-Changing Charms (derived entirely from a rather brilliant prank they'd played in second year); and the day before she'd given him a birthday present. She'd danced with him at his party. Not even Peter pointing out that the chocolates weren't even all that good should have been able to bring James down from his high.

And yet on Sunday morning he woke up feeling distinctly _off. _Initially he put it down to Sirius pouring too generous a helping of Firewhiskey into his punch the night before, but after a long lie-in and a cooked breakfast that was usually enough to throw off anything Sirius could throw at him, James came to the conclusion that, physically, he was fine. The feeling of something not quite sitting right was coming – and he grimaced even as he thought it – from _him_.

He didn't voice this to his friends, of course – Sirius would have killed himself laughing – but he took himself off for most of the day alone. He told himself it was to test the new broom his parents had sent him for his birthday. Although he wouldn't deny taking some delight in the easy way it twisted and turned at the lightest touch, he wasn't quite as pleased as he should have been, as he would ordinarily be. Nor, in spite of the fact he spent some three hours or so flying, did he feel any better at the end of it, the way he always did after flying. Instead, he left the Quidditch pitch with a heavier weight on his shoulders than ever, a grim feeling settled over him that he knew what he had to do.

And so ten o'clock on Sunday evening James found himself sat on the window ledge of the Astronomy Tower, facing in rather than out, so that his legs dangled into the room, as he waited for the wisest person he knew to find him.

Sirius would have said it was a bad idea, James thought as he kicked his heels against the wall, but then Sirius thought anything that didn't involve him was an inherently bad move. It did feel a bit odd, to have given Sirius the slip so he could come here. He'd never done it before.

Just as he was contemplating the idea that perhaps he should just go back to Sirius and forget the whole thing, however, there were footsteps on the stairs and, suddenly, a silhouette appeared at the top of the stairs. He did not immediately see James as he walked over to examine the cupboard, but James cleared his throat and the figure whipped around, his wand almost blinding James before James could open his mouth to speak.

"_Merlin_, Prongs," said Remus, the wand lighting up his pale face, "don't ever do that to me again."

"Bit jumpy for a snooping Prefect, aren't you?" James shielded his eyes against Remus's wand. Remus rolled his eyes and lowered it.

"There's never anyone here," he said. "And if there were, they wouldn't usually clear their throats."

"No need to be jumpy, then, is there?" James asked. Remus merely raised one eyebrow, and James's grin dropped. They both knew that this was odd, James being here alone. It wasn't as though he hadn't waylaid Remus on his Prefect duties before, but he was never by himself, and certainly never lying in wait like this.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, Prongs?" Remus asked eventually.

"_To what do you owe this pleasure?"_ James mimicked in an overly proper voice. Remus fixed him with a hard stare. James winced and kicked his heels against the wall again.

"It's Lily," he said. It struck him that if he'd been talking to Sirius – not that he _would've _spoken to Sirius, not about this – he would have called her Evans.

Remus's expression turned from exasperated to amused in seconds. "What about her?"

"I…er…" Merlin, why was it this hard to _say? _He was afraid of looking like an idiot – that was it. It just wasn't _cool _to go about worrying about what was right and proper and all that rubbish. "It's nothing," he muttered. "I should probably go before you dock points – "

"You're worried she likes you for the wrong reasons," Remus interrupted, and it was so completely bang on the mark that James had to stare.

"How do you _do _that?" he asked finally.

Remus's lips twitched, as if at some internal joke to which James was not privy. James waited a moment, but the urge was too great – the words came tumbling out before he had time to second-guess them again.

"It's obviously great she seems to like me, but I'm on my best sodding behaviour – and it's not even _for _her; it's for you, and to wind Snape up; and that all seems…wrong somehow? Like we're...I dunno, using her or something." His words had started quickly and coherently, but he trailed off uncertainly at the end as he voiced his worst fear: that if he ever persuaded Lily Evans to go out with him, he didn't want it to be because he had ulterior motives. The uncertainty, deep in the pit of his stomach, only grew as Remus studied him silently. Perhaps he should have listened to the Sirius-voice in his head, he thought: Remus was not the right person to come to; Remus had been against this plan from the start…

"You really like her, don't you?" asked Remus at last.

Defensiveness rose in James – he was rapidly turning into the biggest loser in the school. "Don't be daft," he said. "She's just a bird." But he found himself fervently hoping that he had not already kept Remus so long that Lily came to find him – that she had not overheard him.

Remus was studying him again, his pale green eyes glinting in the dim light. This had definitely been a stupid idea. James slid off the windowsill and jumped down onto the ground.

"Well, thanks for the chat, Moony," he said briskly, as if they'd been discussing the Quidditch League. He messed up his hair with one hand – just in _case _he ran into Lily. "I'll see you back in the Common Room."

He had taken two long strides towards the stone steps when Remus spoke again.

"Put it another way, Prongs," said his friend. "Maybe it's not Lily you're using."

"Snivellus, you mean?" James whipped around, but the suggestion died on his lips, because the look on Remus's face told him exactly whom Remus thought he was using, and it wasn't Snape. James stared at him, open-mouthed. "Moony – you _can't _think – I wouldn't – " The way Remus did not look away somehow made it worse. "We're just trying to get Snape off your back," he said.

But doubt was gnawing at him – it had been Sirius's suggestion, but had he only agreed to this plan because it meant he would get Lily? _Bloody hell. _He had spent the whole day questioning if he was using Lily as some sort of pawn when he should have been wondering if it was wrong to go against what Remus wanted when it was _Remus's _secret. It was the worst kind of plan, James realised in a rush – the sort of plan in which no one was happy and everyone had the potential to get hurt.

"We'll give up if you want," he said finally, though it pained him to say it, to think that Lily might not like him anymore. "Think of something else – "

"No, it's all right." Remus sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. You're just trying to help. This whole thing is just sort of…stressful, you know?"

"I know," said James, thoroughly relieved that Remus seemed back to his normal self, though he still felt on edge himself. "But it'll be all right. We'll get Snivellus kicked out and you'll be safe."

Something flickered in Remus's pale eyes – discomfort? Guilt? – but James couldn't read it.

"Moony," he said, "we _can _think of something else. This isn't the greatest plan ever anyway – "

"It's fine, Prongs," Remus interrupted. "Like you said, it'll be all right."

"Yeah," said James, unconvinced. "I'll…er, see you in the dorm later, then, shall I?"

"Sure," Remus responded, easily enough, James thought as he descended the stone steps from the Astronomy Tower.

It was only when he was halfway back to Gryffindor Tower that he realised that talking to Remus hadn't comforted him one bit. If anything, he felt _worse._

* * *

Half an hour was a long time to be checking the Astronomy Tower.

Lily didn't know for sure it had been half an hour since she and Remus had separated in the usual way, of course, because her Muggle watch didn't work at Hogwarts. She did know, however, that she had checked the entirety of the fourth floor three times and her fellow Prefect had yet to return to meet her before they proceeded down to the dungeons together. It was a routine they'd fallen into sometime back in November, when they'd realised they could save a lot of time if they did parts of the castle alone. It was bending the rules, of course – two stern faces were considered much more effective than one when faced with late-night delinquents – but they'd quickly worked out which the quietest places were and those were the ones they tackled single-handedly, as quickly as they could.

Which meant that Lily was somewhat bemused as to why Remus was taking so long: it had been ages since they'd caught anyone in the Astronomy Tower, and even then it had been two snivelling third years lacking any greater imagination, who didn't need telling twice to get back to their dormitories. He hadn't been held up by troublemakers, surely.

She waited at the top of the staircase, their usual meeting point, her elbows resting on the bannister as she drummed her fingernails on it, thinking about the long Charms essay awaiting her back in Gryffindor Tower. Where _was _he? Should she go and find him? Her nose wrinkled at the thought of the number of stairs she would have to climb before going all the way back down to the dungeons. The idea was not appealing.

Still, she thought, what if he's in trouble?

It crossed her mind that this was, perhaps, the central reason for why they were supposed to patrol in pairs.

Lily's eyes drifted up the next staircase. Maybe she had missed him somewhere along her second or third check of the fourth floor. Maybe he'd gone down to the dungeons without her.

Well, if her Charms essay was ever going to get done that evening, she ought to head down to the dungeons anyway. She might, after all, miss Remus if she went up to the Astronomy Tower. If he was still up there, he'd work out she'd gone down without him and she could meet him there. It was their very last place to check, so if Remus didn't appear, she'd check the Astronomy Tower on her way up to the dorms.

_Remus wouldn't like this_, a small voice said in the back of Lily's mind as she straightened up. They had never, _ever _caught anyone in the dungeons (possibly because it was the least romantic place in the whole castle), but Remus had always insisted they do it together – in no small part, Lily suspected, because the Slytherin Common Room was in the dungeons. Still, Lily thought indignantly, she could handle herself just fine, thank you very much. She didn't need someone protecting her. Besides, the chances of running into anyone were fairly remote.

Pushing the doubts from her mind, Lily started to descend the staircase.

She regretted her decision as soon as she stepped off the last stone step and into the dank atmosphere of the Potions corridor. Lit torches flickered on the wall, but there was no natural light from the stars here: the shadows loomed large and dark everywhere. She had never been down here at night by herself, she realised – even on the occasions she attended late evening parties in Slughorn's quarters, Alice and Dorcas were always with her.

"Remus?" she called softly, suddenly unwilling to draw attention to herself but keen to find her friend.

Silence. Involuntarily, Lily shivered. It would be easy to go up, she knew. She could wait for Remus in the Entrance Hall – he had to pass through there to get to the dungeons. _But he might already be here. He might not have heard me. _Besides which, there was a stubborn part of Lily that refused to back down.

_Honestly, _she scolded herself. _What are you afraid of?_ Everything she might have once been afraid of – ghosts, poltergeists, monsters in wardrobes – it was all _real _and she knew she could handle it. _So are you a Gryffindor or what?_

She pulled out her wand and lit it. The light was bright, but not bright enough to see all the way down the corridor. Her heart was hammering painfully against her ribs, but gritting her teeth with newfound steel, Lily stepped forward, wand out ahead of her.

The truth was she had been afraid of the dark as a child. It was, in fact, how she had discovered she could do magic: her parents, keen to keep their electricity bill cheap and no doubt tired of Petunia's incessant whining that she couldn't sleep with the light on, had insisted one night when Lily was six that when it was time for bed, the light had to be switched off. Lily had cried and cried until she had seen a burning red behind her eyelids and had seen a white ball of light hovering above her bed. Perhaps she ought to have been afraid, but instinctively she had known that the light meant her no harm.

"Petunia, _look!"_ she had squealed.

From the next bed, Petunia's sulky voice had emerged out of the darkness.

"Go to _sleep_, Lily."

"But, Tuney, look at the light!"

"Are you daft?" Petunia had asked. "Mum and Dad said _no _lights. That's why it's dark tonight." Suddenly her voice took on a suspicious edge. "Why aren't you crying anymore?"

"Because there's a light," said Lily, bewildered. "Can't you see it?"

"See _what? _It's pitch back, you idiot." The sound came of Petunia rolling over. "I _knew _you were pretending this whole time."

"Pretending what?" Lily asked, but the stubborn silence told her that her sister was determined to go to sleep. Frowning, she looked up at the ball of light. Could Petunia _really _not see it?

The answer had to be yes, she knew, because even if Lily had opened the curtain a crack to let in the light from the street lamps, Petunia would have been downstairs whining to their parents.

She had thought at the time it must be some sort of guardian angel only she could see. Now, of course, she knew better. She found herself wishing, suddenly, that coming to Hogwarts had not meant that she lost most of her involuntary magic. She wouldn't have a clue, now, how to cast that sort of spell, or even if it actually existed.

_Practise_, Severus had told her. _You have to practise to learn how to control your magic. _And he had shown her how, and now she could still spin a daisy chain without touching it. But as she'd never actually confessed her fear of the dark to Severus (how mortifying, at ten, to want to sleep with the light on!) and coming to Hogwarts had largely expelled that fear anyway, she could no longer create her ball of light as she once had.

_That's what Lumos is for, _Lily told herself sternly. _Grown-ups don't need a ball of light. _

Still, the unsettled feeling in her stomach kept her moving – she wanted to get out of the dungeons quickly The Potions classroom was empty, save for twenty cauldrons fermenting in a corner. A cupboard Lily forced herself to open revealed nothing but Filch's brooms and mops. Slughorn's office was dark, the door closed – perhaps he was in his private quarters at the back. His was the last room down in the dungeons; heart filled with relief, Lily turned to leave.

It was then she heard voices.

Quiet, muffled voices, admittedly, so that nothing distinct could be heard, but it still made Lily whip around, wand outstretched, pulse racing wildly as she squinted ahead of her. But there was nothing. Of course there wasn't – she'd just looked, hadn't she? – but as she moved her wand ahead, she saw there was another bend in the corner. Dimly, she remembered it, but she and Remus never bothered to check there because there was just a blank wall. But around a corner, out of sight, was the perfect place to avoid getting caught, thought Lily, and clearly someone had realised it. Crossing her fingers it wasn't seventh year Slytherins, she crept forwards and turned the corner.

There was no one there.

Or, rather, she couldn't see anyone: there was only a short space between the corner and the blank stone wall she remembered and it was empty now but for her and an abandoned pile of cauldrons. But the voices were louder now – still muffled; she couldn't hear them properly – but definitely _there_.

"_Homenum Revelio_," Lily whispered, raising her wand.

Nothing. She was alone in that small space. Which meant….

Slowly, she took several steps forwards, towards the wall, before lowering her wand to her side and pressing her ear against the cool stone.

"There's a perfect justification for it, can't see why everyone doesn't know about it – "

"Well, _we _know Mudbloods and Muggles taint a bloodline, make it less powerful – "

Lily's heart dropped to her stomach. The voices sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place them: she could make a reasonable guess as to the _sort _of people they were, though. She grimaced, still shocked and bemused after years of Hogwarts that some people could think like this.

"But there's a really clever Mudblood in my class!"

This voice sounded much younger: Lily would have placed the first two in sixth or seventh year, but this voice was not yet broken – perhaps only a second or third year.

"Pretences!" said another deep voice. "Mudbloods have been pulling the cloak over our eyes for years! Haven't you heard the story of the Monied Mudblood and the Pauper Pureblood? It starts with a pureblood – one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight – who had fallen on hard times – "

"That's just a fairytale for kids," said a scornful voice.

"Look here, my great-grandfather wrote that and if you're calling him a liar – "

"Cantankerous Nott was stark raving mad by the end – "

"How dare you – "

"That's enough! A hard voice, which had not yet spoken – much colder than the voice of Rowan Nott, who Lily realised must have been speaking – broke in, and the murmuring ceased somewhat, but not entirely. "We are not here to discuss the merits of bedtime stories. We're here to get on with the discussion. The title of this evening's meeting is 'Sterilising Muggles: Methods and Concealment'."

Lily's blood turned icy: she suddenly felt numb. She had never heard of such a thing – sterilising Muggles against their will, eliminating Muggle children, Muggle-born witches and wizards... How could people be discussing it here, at Hogwarts? Had she really been so naïve to assume that they were safe at Hogwarts – that all the really nasty stuff happened outside the castle walls? But even in her worst nightmares she had not thought something so hideously awful would be contemplated…

Who _were _these people? Nott, obviously, but who else – who else would involve themselves in this? And _where _were they? They were not in the Slytherin Common Room, which was far away from here. No, it had to be some sort of hidden room, some sort of meeting place for these sick individuals.

She had missed the next few sentences. Shaking slightly, she bent her ear to the wall again.

"-the author of the book in our collection on this subject suggests the Barren Curse – developed by the distinguished Sirius Black I – equally effective on Muggle and Mudblood women, though the main drawback is the precision required. The author recommends the woman be restrained in an accessible – "

No. She couldn't listen. Letting out a strangled cry of disgust, she tore her ear from the wall, staring at it in horror. She had to tell someone – Professor McGonagall; _anyone_…Her legs felt weak as she backed away from the wall, her mind spinning. But suddenly her foot caught something underneath her, she was falling, and the pile of cauldrons she had stumbled into collapsed with several loud crashes. Lily scrambled up, grappling for her wand, but it was too late: she could hear footsteps and voices telling someone to investigate…

She had just made it to her feet when she heard three taps and, suddenly, as she stood rooted to the spot, she saw one stone near the top edge inch out towards her, before the whole wall started to crack down the middle, edging apart, just wide enough to reveal and very familiar looking figure with lank hair and a thin stature.

Lily could only gape, but the person wasted no time; he started forwards and grabbed her roughly by the upper arm, before pulling her around the corner. He threw up a _Muffliato _charm before whirling around to face her.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

His voice started Lily out of her reverie. "What am _I _doing here?" she said furiously. "What are _you _doing here, Severus Snape? Those people are _sick, _and if you – "

"Snape, what is it?" someone called – Lily thought she recognised Avery's voice.

"Shut it, you fool!" Severus whisper-shouted back. "You'll get us all into trouble! It's just Filch's cat with her damned kittens again!"

"Well, come back, then!"

"I'm moving them so Filch doesn't come snooping," Severus returned. Her whipped back to Lily. "You've got to go; they'll kill you – "

"I'm not going anywhere," said Lily icily, crossing her arms, "until you tell me what's going on!"

His expression was torn, anguished.

"_Severus_," Lily hissed.

"There's no time," he said, pushing her a little. "Tomorrow."

"_Tonight_," Lily insisted. "Tonight, or I'm going straight to Professor McGonagall. I should do that _anyway – "_

A flicker of something – fear? – crossed Severus's face.

"Transfiguration classroom at midnight," he said. "Now _go."_

Reluctant to leave, but recognising the concession for what it was worth, Lily nodded. She backed away. Severus gave her a last piercing look, before disappearing around the corner, leaving Lily with her spinning thoughts and churning stomach.

* * *

She'd thought he might not show, but he was there before she was, still dressed in his school uniform as Lily slipped into the classroom in her nightgown. She felt cold and hideously underdressed for wandering around the school, but she had not had much choice – failure to go to bed would have made her friends ask questions, and she could hardly tell them the truth.

"You're late." His voice was low as she shut the door softly behind her.

She turned to face him, pulling at her dressing gown cord to make it tighter. "I don't think _you're _the one to be lecturing _me_ right now," she said coolly. She waited for him to speak, but he seemed intent on studying the desk in front of him. Well, she thought,she wasn't about to make this easy for him. She folded her arms and waited.

"It's not a big deal," he said finally.

Whatever Lily had expected, it was not this. "Not a big deal?" she burst out in a furious whisper. "Sev, this is serious! How _could _you? What is it – some sort of anti-Muggleborn cult you've all created?"

"Don't be stupid," he said, his dark eyes rising to meet hers. "It's nothing like that. We just meet to discuss things – "

"Like sterilising Muggles and Muggleborns?" Lily's voice was rising. "People like me, Sev?" She felt physically sick, but she was rooted to the spot in her disbelief. She was no stranger to the fact that all of Severus's friends were into the Dark Arts, but she'd been foolish enough to think that Sev was keeping out of it – that he wasn't the same.

Severus looked pained. "You know it's not like that," he said. "I would never – you're too – " His gaze snapped away abruptly to the wall. When he looked at her again, his expression was blank, unreadable. "The seventh years started it," he said. "It's been going for years – meeting occasionally to discuss Dark Arts. You're just expected to join. My friends – "

"Oh yes, I suppose Avery and Mulciber are in it," said Lily scornfully.

"_All _my year are in it," said Severus. "How do you think it would look if I wasn't?"

"If you had any decency, you'd go straight to Dumbledore and get it stopped," said Lily.

"I'm sure that would go down splendidly with the people I have to share a dorm with for the next two and a half years." Severus's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Then _I'll _go to Dumbledore," said Lily hotly. Her vision was blurred with tears. What had she expected? That Severus had some way of explaining this? It was too awful to be explained – she should have known that. She turned to go, wiping her face angrily with the back of her hand.

"I'll be expelled."

Lily's hand hovered over the doorknob, and she turned slowly to face her childhood friend. His face was white; she knew what it had cost him to say it, to admit this weakness. She had never seen it as a weakness, but Severus certainly had, and he hated even alluding to the fact that his home life was less than ideal. But Lily well knew expulsion for Severus would be punishment far beyond what he deserved – while, she was sure, the likes of Avery and Nott would get off because of family influences. Could she do that to him?

"I'll leave your name out of it," she said.

"They'll tell," said Severus, and his tone was wretched. "And they'll know it was you if I'm not landed in it too."

"I don't care about _that."_

"I do," said Severus, so quietly that Lily wasn't sure she'd heard correctly. She stared at him, understanding that he was asking her to keep this to herself – not to tell _anybody_.

"How can you stand to listen to it?" she asked softly. "Sev, they were talking about people like me and my parents like we're…like I'm…" A lump had formed in her throat, preventing her from voicing her fears: that there was a substantially larger proportion of people than she had realised who thought her worthless, who wanted to hurt her…that those people might include _Severus_…

"I don't like it any more than you do," he said quickly. "You know I think you're the best witch in our year – probably in the whole school. But…but it's better like this, isn't it? Knowing what people out there are really like, knowing what we're up against? That's the only reason I sit there and listen to that stuff, Lily."

She wanted to believe him. He was gazing at her earnestly and she had to look away.

"But you are interested, Sev," she said. "You can't deny that. I heard them talking about a collection of books – you've read them, haven't you?"

Surprise flickered across Severus's face – perhaps at how well she knew him. "Yes," he said, his tone cautious. "All the stuff we talk about comes from the books they keep in that room. I feel obliged to educate myself."

"How could you? They deserve to be burnt!"

"No book deserves to be burnt," said Severus, jutting out his chin. "I told you – I'm only interested to know what's out there. Knowledge is power, after all."

Evidently he meant this as a rather grandiose statement, but it made Lily shiver.

"That's probably the sort of thing You-Know-Who goes about saying."

"That's the sort of thing Slytherins go about saying," Severus corrected. Lily was silent. He took a hesitant step forward. "So…you won't tell?"

"It's sick," said Lily stoutly, folding her arms. "Frankly, Sev, whatever your motives, you all deserve to be expelled."

"Says _you_," Severus retorted. "_I _say everything deserves discussion, whether you agree with it or not." His eyes suddenly seemed blacker, his expression cold. "I thought you were open-minded. Not like your sister."

It was a low blow and he knew it: Lily could see the apology in his eyes before he opened his mouth again. She waved it off.

"I am," she said. "But I'm worried that for the rest of them it _isn't_, you know, academic." As the words left her mouth, she realised she had just inadvertently suggested that what Severus was doing was perfectly acceptable. Was it? Remembering the discussion she had overheard still made her shiver. But one of the things she had always admired about Severus was his intellectual curiosity – his interest in possessing knowledge for the sake of knowledge. And he was right: she certainly could not argue with the view that it was worth knowing what was out there, rather than staying in ignorance.

"Most of the others are too stupid to comprehend most of what goes on." Severus's tone was dismissive, but he must have been able to see that Lily was still tense because he added, "Seriously. It's not like they could do this stuff under Dumbledore's nose, is it?"

"I guess not," said Lily slowly, reluctant to make any further concessions, any agreement. The thought that people like Nott knew how to hurt her so badly made her insides twist horribly, even if they couldn't use it at school. "I still don't know if I can keep this quiet, Sev."

Something in Severus's face closed up; he turned away slightly. She hated it, knowing that he didn't trust many people in his life and that she was compromising his trust in her.

"As you will." His tone was bitter. "I thought you were my friend."

"I am, Sev; I just don't like you mixed up in this stuff."

"I'm _not _mixed up in it. It's just something the Slytherins do. Like the Gryffindors sit around eating toasted marshmallows and playing Gobstones." The sneer was just barely detectable, and Lily almost blushed, because it was typical of Friday nights in the Gryffindor Common Room. "You wouldn't understand," he said bitterly.

He had been saying that more and more lately; and perhaps it was true. She certainly couldn't imagine her House-mates sitting around discussing Muggle sterilisation techniques with interest rather than outrage. She wrung her hands.

"If I don't say anything – " He looked up, hopefully, and she made sure to hold his gaze. "You've got to promise me it's not going any further."

"We're not exactly planning to broadcast it," said Severus dryly.

"That's not what I mean. I don't want you going around using this stuff on Muggle Borns, Sev."

"I won't. I promise."

It was said a little too quickly; a little too easily. Lily surveyed her friend, trying to work out the loophole.

"But the others…" She trailed off hesitantly.

"They won't hurt you," said Severus. "I promise. I won't let them lay a finger on you."

It was not herself she was concerned about, but Severus's gaze was so intense she felt embarrassed; it had suddenly turned awkward; they had strayed into something she hadn't banked on. She lowered her eyes, flustered, trying to find a way to handle this safely and drawing a blank.

But she already knew one thing. She couldn't turn him in. Not to be expelled. And so long as they didn't use this stuff… She was not binding herself in any way; if they used it, she could tell Dumbledore what she knew…

"All right, Sev," she said at last. "I won't tell."

Severus's face lit up; she thought for a moment he might actually hug her. But even Severus's obvious delight couldn't help her shake the feeling that she was doing something very, very wrong.

"I need to go to bed," she muttered, fumbling for the doorknob. Her eyes were burning again; she could hardly see. She felt the handle underneath her fingers and fled before she could say another word, before she broke down into tears.

Severus watched her go, chewing his lip nervously, his heart hammering. He knew Lily was good for her word – if she said she wouldn't tell, she wouldn't, but with the threat of expulsion gone he was suddenly left to confront the horror he had felt when he had discovered Lily in the dungeons.

Thank Merlin it had been he who had checked on the noises outside and not someone else! His House-mates had enough quibbles with Lily Evans to justify them teaching her a good lesson. Severus wasn't sure Lily had comprehended how much danger she had been in – how much danger she _would _be in, if she did tell after all. He, Severus, would be expelled, but many of them wouldn't, and they'd see to it that they got revenge on the individual that had told on them in the first place. Whatever he had told her, some of the Slytherins were definitely stupid enough to use the curses they had learned during their meetings. Severus had known well enough that sort of threat wouldn't go far with Lily – she could be the most foolhardy of Gryffindors at times. Luckily, Lily's kindness was as predictable as her bravery, and he had half-suspected, half-hoped that he could appeal to her successfully, even if he _had _had to betray his weakness to her.

He thought of his parents' dilapidated house in Cokeworth, with its grimy windows and roof badly in need of repair, and grimaced.

None of this, of course, solved this little problem with Potter. He may have avoided drawing further attention to Lily, but the Slytherins were already keenly aware of her recent affinity with the Gryffindor Chaser. He had promised himself he was going to talk to her today, but she'd been surrounded by her friends in the library all day, and she'd rushed off just now before he could even bring up the subject of Potter.

_Tomorrow_, he thought resolutely. It had to be tomorrow; he could not keep putting it off like this. If he was not careful he would run out of time and she would be _dating Potter._

The thought made him want to throw up.

* * *

**A/N: As always, I would love to hear what you thought. The next chapter may take slightly longer but is well on its way (and reviews go a long way towards speeding me up!).**


	7. Once More Unto the Breach

Disclaimer: Obviously everything you recognise belongs to JKR.

A/N: Ack, sincere apologies for how long this has taken. I just couldn't get it right. Many thanks for sticking with me.

* * *

**Chapter Six: Once More Unto the Breach**

**29****th**** March 1976**

"Lily? _Lily! _Merlin's saggy underpants, woman, are you even listening?"

Out of nowhere, Marlene stepped in front of her; Lily almost tripped over trying not to crash into her and instead fell sideways.

"_Oof_, sorry, Alice – "

She straightened up, trying to give the impression that she had retained some ounce of dignity, shooting Alice an apologetic look as her friend rubbed her bruised arm. But Marlene merely crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"All right, Evans," she said. "Out with it. What's the matter?"

Lily cringed, her eyes shifting from Marlene to Alice, but the latter was studiously avoiding her eye. _No help there, then. _"Nothing," she said, trying to step around Marlene, but Alice was suddenly blocking her way.

"Lily, you've been really distracted since you woke up," she said, her voice unusually firm.

"That's hardly saying much," Lily pointed out. "You know I'm the world's worst morning person and we're not even at breakfast yet."

"This is the first time you've tried to put your hat on as a sock and go to breakfast in your knickers," said Marlene.

"I forgot to put my bra on once," Lily protested, but she knew it was futile: she'd been completely out of it since Alice's alarm had gone off that morning, mainly because she'd only got to sleep ten minutes before, too busy berating herself as she tossed and turned. And even now a single thought plagued her: how could she even _think _about not turning the Slytherins in?

Deep down, of course, she knew exactly why. _Severus. _They'd been friends for so long – he'd been the one who had explained to her what she was when it so confused her – that she couldn't bring herself to betray him now. Lily was aware it was more than that – that she had allowed herself to be drawn into his persuasive monologue about the importance of having an open mind because she just didn't want to believe he was bad, but she wasn't entirely convinced by it all. Every time she thought of putting it to her friends alongside the information that a group of Slytherins met to discuss how to sterilise Muggleborns each week, she knew all suggestions of having an open mind would be crushed by their instinctive outrage. And if it had been anyone else – if Marlene had told her that she'd overheard it from a Slytherin, for example – Lily knew her reaction would have been the same.

Why were things different when it came to Severus?

"_Lily_," Marlene said again, and Lily realised her friend had been talking. "_What's going_ _on_?"

She couldn't possibly tell them. "I'm _fine_," she insisted. Marlene and Alice opened their mouths to argue but a drawling, bored voice behind Lily got there before they did.

"_I _can tell you exactly why our darling Prefect's such a mess."

With a sinking feeling, Lily turned around, already knowing who would greet her. Sure enough, Alvina Carrington stood in the middle of the corridor, her thin arms crossed over her chest, her pretty mouth tightened into a small, almost invisible line. Although it wasn't yet nine o'clock on a Monday morning, and everyone else from Lily's dorm had looked horribly dishevelled as they'd stumbled out of the door, Alvina was perfectly made up, her hair glossy and her porcelain skin smooth. In four and a half years of sharing a dorm with Alvina, Lily had never once seen the girl look anything but pristine. But perhaps it wasn't surprising: Lily had seen Alvina's parents picking her up at King's Cross before, and Mrs Carrington looked every inch the noblewoman, slender figure dressed in furs, pearls and long, expensive robes which trailed on the floor behind her.

Lily was not the jealous type, however, and in spite of all this (even in spite of the rather disdainful look Alvina had given Lily's own parents on the platform), she'd never had a reason to dislike Alvina. But this year, Alvina had taken a sudden, real dislike to Lily. From the girl's comments about 'Muggle-born pity votes' and how "boys always went after the more unattractive girls, didn't they, because they were scared of rejection", Lily had gradually deduced it was for two reasons: Lily's appointment as Prefect and the fact that James Potter claimed to fancy her. Lily had largely ignored Alvina's idiotic behaviour – but she found herself eying the girl rather nervously now, wondering if she had made a horrible mistake in not trying to smooth things over with her.

"Sod off, Carrington," said Marlene. Marlene had never liked Alvina – hardly surprising, since Marlene was not the most tolerant of people and Alvina was everything that got Marlene's back up.

Alvina was not the sort to be intimidated, though, and she merely stared at Marlene coolly. "Well, personally, I thought it was terribly interesting that a _Prefect _decided to go wandering around at all hours of the night."

Oh _God_. Of all the people that could have caught her. Next to her, Marlene twitched, and Lily knew her friend was dying to turn around and ask her whom she'd been meeting. Lily tried to ignore her.

"How would _you _know?" she asked, trying to sound like she was undaunted. "You're the heaviest sleeper in the whole dorm!"

Alvina shrugged. The answer was, of course, obvious: she too had been sneaking out. _That _was hardly surprising. Alvina was popular enough amongst the male population of Hogwarts.

"So who wereyou meeting, Evans?" she drawled, her lips pursuing as she looked Lily up and down, as if she couldn't quite believe anyone would make the effort to sneak out to meet Lily Evans.

"Nobody," said Lily – so relieved that Alvina didn't already know that she spoke too quickly. She winced at her transparency, but luckily Marlene and Alice had sensed the need to leave, and simultaneously linked their arms through hers.

"That settles the matter, then," said Alice firmly. "See you at breakfast, Alvina."

"Not if we see you first, though," Marlene threw over her shoulder as they pulled Lily away, leaving Alvina glaring after them. "Bloody bitch," she muttered under her breath. "She's just jealous – because no matter how many pots of Evangeline's Ever-Shiny Hair Solution she uses, she'll still never be as pretty as _you._"

"That's probably the nicest thing you've ever said, Marlene," said Alice with a grin.

"Oh, shut up," Marlene returned. "So who was it?" she asked Lily briskly. "Obviously not James because you'd have said it just to see the look on her face."

"Should have said it anyway," Lily murmured, but her heart had started to thump painfully against her rib cage. She _could not _tell them. The mere mention of Severus would have Marlene groaning in disgust, and she'd then have to tell them _why_ she'd been meeting him, to stop Marlene getting the wrong end of the stick. Perhaps she could make something up…?

"You don't have to tell us, Lily," said Alice kindly, but Marlene shushed her.

"Whoever it is can't be worse than Quagmire Fortesque," she said. "I snogged him last week and his lips haven't got any smaller, I can tell you."

"I wasn't _snogging _anyone," Lily protested. They had entered the Great Hall and her face heated up as a few nearby heads turned in their direction. She lowered her voice. "I was just meeting someone, that was all – "

"Lily!"

Flipping Merlin, this was _not _her morning. Lily would have taken just about anyone to rescue her from having to explain herself to Alice and Marlene – even, probably, another round with Alvina. Anyone, that is, except for precisely the owner of the voice that had interrupted her. She stood stock still for a moment, panicking, wondering whether he might just go away if she pretended he wasn't there. But after a few seconds she realised all that had happened was that Alice was looking at her oddly and Marlene continued to scowl at the space behind her. Heart sinking, Lily turned on the spot. Severus was standing in front of her, his bag slung over his shoulder. He looked, Lily thought, like he had had as bad a night as she had: he was even paler than usual, and the skin around his eyes was grey. It took her a moment to realise he was standing oddly: stooped so that his shoulders were hunched – trying, Lily realised with a sinking feeling – to keep hidden behind a group of Ravenclaws and out of view of the Slytherin table.

"What is it, Severus?" she asked.

"I need to talk to you." His voice low and urgent, his dark eyes were intense as they bore into hers. Lily felt a shiver run up her spine.

"We're on our way to breakfast," said Marlene rudely.

Severus ignored her, as he usually did, his gaze focused on Lily's. "Please? It's important."

"Can't it wait?" Lily asked. Her tone must have betrayed her wariness: Marlene looked instantly suspicious. Heart leaping into her throat, Lily grabbed Severus's sleeve and pulled him to one side, behind a loud group of Hufflepuffs and out of earshot of her friends. "I don't want to talk about last night," she whispered to him. "I said I wouldn't tell, didn't I?"

Severus looked indignant. "It's not about _that."_

"I'm about to get breakfast."

As though sensing the weakness in her voice, Severus pressed: "It's _urgent_." And before Lily could protest further, he had subtly grabbed her upper arm and was steering her out of the Great Hall, leaving Lily to look hopelessly over her shoulder at Alice and Marlene.

"What _is_ it, Sev?_"_ said Lily irritably, pulling her arm from Severus's grasp as soon as they were in the Entrance Hall. "What's so important it couldn't wait until later?"

She folded her arms tightly across her chest, watching Severus critically as he wrung his hands.

"I need to talk to you," he said.

"I got that," said Lily impatiently. "About what? If this is about last night – "

"Potter."

The name was said so quietly that Lily thought she mustn't have heard correctly; for a moment she simply stared.

"Er, pardon?"

"James Potter!" It practically erupted from Severus's mouth this time, as though it was something particularly unsavoury he needed to spit out. But merely increasing his ferocity made Lily none the wiser, and at that moment she saw Alvina passing as she went into the Great Hall, staring at the two of them with more curiosity than Lily liked. She definitely didn't need any more of Alvina's interest. Lily pulled Severus aside, into one of the alcoves.

"What _about _James Potter, Sev?" she asked, making sure to keep her voice down.

Severus's expression was sullen, as though he suspected she had pulled them out of the way so that the boy in question wouldn't see them. He glared at her as he answered. "You've been hanging around with him an awful lot lately."

Lily's eyebrows shot up. _That _certainly wasn't what she'd been expecting: she'd anticipated some sort of tale of what Potter and his friends had been up to at night – something Severus would think would take her scrutiny and criticism off him – and she nearly laughed. Why was everyone so interested in her and James Potter? "So what?"

"I don't like him."

Lily nearly snorted at this grand revelation. "I know," she said. "But I don't exactly love your friends either."

Her amusement died as disbelief crossed Severus's face. "You're not _friends _with Potter? _We're _friends. Best friends. He's – " His anger appeared to render him speechless; he resorted to simply glaring at her.

"I – " Lily stopped. Truth be told, she wasn't exactly sure _what _she was with Potter – they were not _friends_, exactly, since she would not have confided in him the way she did Marlene or Alice, or even Remus, but he seemed to be _around _a lot lately, and he was friendly and he made her laugh and he'd even stopped hexing their fellow students quite so much. To her horror, she felt a blush rise up in her cheeks. Severus's expression darkened and Lily's voice was defensive was she spoke again. "What does it _matter_, Sev? I'm still friends with you."

Severus's simply stared at her, aghast, before he buried his face in his hands.

"_What? _What is it, Sev?"

"He's a pureblood!" he howled, the words muffled in his hands.

Lily was so distracted by the distress Severus was displaying that it took several seconds for her brain to process what he'd just said. But then her temper flared. "What's _that _got to do with anything?"

Severus straightened up immediately.

"Nothing! Well, it shouldn't – but it does to some people – "

"Your friends from last night, you mean?" Lily's tone was icy.

"Look, people won't _like _it, you hanging around with a pureblood – "

"_Alice _is a pureblood. _Marlene's _a pureblood."

She had cornered him, challenging him to tell her what this was really about, what his real motivation for bringing up her newfound friendship with James Potter was. But she should have known better: it had been there, simmering under the surface between them for some time, and Severus had never said anything about it. Severus would never be so up front. She saw the retort die in his eyes; his gaze slid past her to the wall behind.

"McKinnon," he said, his voice suddenly very haughty and unlike the Severus Snape she knew, "isn't a _real _pureblood."

Lily stared. "Merlin, you're impossible," she said bitterly. A lump was rising in her throat; she turned away, but he grabbed her arm again.

"No! Please listen – "

"No, _you _listen," Lily hissed, determined not to be overheard but angry all the same. "Don't you _dare _put my friends into your stupid little blood hierarchy – it's none of your business _whom _I'm friends with, and if you have a problem with me being friends with James Potter, it should be for a better reason than because he's a _pureblood!"_

Tears were clouding her vision. She turned away again, refusing to let Severus see, shaking her arm from his grasp as she moved quickly away. She couldn't go to breakfast – not now. Marlene and Alice were bound to see how upset she was, and they'd want to know why. No, they had Care of Magical Creatures first – she'd go outside to get some fresh air and calm down. She just hoped to _Merlin _Severus didn't follow her.

But she'd barely made it half a dozen steps when a voice came behind her.

"Lily! Hey, Lily!"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," she muttered, wiping her face on her sleeve and turning angrily to confront whoever it was who wanted her attention now, but the sight that greeted her made her retort die on her tongue.

It was James Potter. And he was holding out a napkin full of Danish pastries.

* * *

"He's definitely taking the bait."

Sirius said this with an air of satisfaction rather than concern; and, after all, why shouldn't he? The whole _point_ was to get Snape to take the bait. Wasn't it? James poked his eggs with his fork rather dubiously at Sirius's announcement, his mind still on what he had discussed with Remus the night before, a deep, unsettled feeling in his gut, still wondering if there wasn't something morally wrong about all this. Remus, too, was oddly silent as he ate his cereal. But Peter was all agog.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Course I'm sure," Sirius scoffed. "Idiot's been glaring at us for the last twenty minutes, and as soon as Evans appeared, he yanked her out of the Hall." He put his knife and fork together and used the corner of his napkin to wipe his mouth. It was somehow ironic how properly Sirius ate: he consciously and intentionally rebelled against everything his family stood for, but there were some things his upbringing had drilled into him so effectively he'd probably never shake them. James doubted his best friend was even aware of it.

"So what now?" Peter asked.

"Obviously today's the day," said Sirius matter-of-factly. "Time for Prongs to ask Evans out."

James choked on his mouthful of eggs; Remus had to thump him on the back while he groped for a glass of water. "Why today?" he asked weakly, when he'd got his voice back.

"Because," Sirius said, with a great show of patience, "we have Defence with the Slytherins and McGonagall will be in her office _in the same Tower_ because she's got a free then. She's the only one we can trust to come down hard on Snivellus."

"It's a bit weird that you know McGonagall's timetable," said Remus.

Sirius shrugged. "Wiggins has thrown me out of Defence and sent me to McGonagall enough times."

"I think it's too soon," said James quickly. His hand was threading frantically in and out of his hair, making it stick up in all directions, but he didn't care. "She might not say yes."

"And Snivellus might blab about Moony at any minute," said Sirius irritably. "Grow a pair and do it. This afternoon. Perfect opportunity. We've got a lesson with the Slytherins first thing too, so you can really wind Snivelly up."

"Yeah…yeah, all right," James mumbled. He looked around, trying to pick out Lily from the other students, before he saw Marlene and Alice further up the table and remembered that Sirius had said Lily was talking to Snape. "I think I'd just better…" he said vaguely, standing up and darting down to them before he could finish his sentence.

"McKinnon, Hornwick."

Marlene swivelled in her seat, arching an eyebrow at him, a smirk playing around her lips as though she knew precisely why he was there. "James. After something?"

"D'you think Lily…er, Evans would mind if I interrupted her conversation with Snape?" He ran a hand nervously through his hair again as Marlene's gaze turned to surprise. It was true that he would not usually bother asking if he could break up Lily's cosy chat with Snivellus, but he did not want to anger Lily – not today, of all days.

"Merlin, no," said Marlene. "Please do us all a favour. She didn't want to talk to him anyway – he pulled her away from breakfast."

"_Marlene_," Alice hissed, but it lacked its usual reprimanding tone and she sighed in resignation. "I think they're in the Entrance Hall," she told James.

"Cheers." James jogged back down the table to pick up his bag, ignoring the curious looks from his friends and, as though as an afterthought, picked up two Danish pastries in a napkin before jogging out of the Hall.

He saw Snape immediately when he came out of the Great Hall – standing off to one side, looking stricken as he stared at the door. James's head whipped around in time to see the back of Lily's head storming towards the outside.

"Lily! Hey, Lily!"

_Best to start with her name, _he thought as he caught up, but he regretted it as soon as she turned around: her expression looked as though she was ready to bite his head off. Wincing and silent, he held out the pastries. Her expression changed from furious to surprised in a heartbeat: James's spirits lifted a little.

"Thought you might be hungry," he said. "Saw you weren't at breakfast." Her eyes were red and puffy, he noticed. His temper flared. Had that snivelling git made her cry? "Er…do you fancy a walk before Kettleburn's class?" he asked, deciding that if he remained this close to Severus Snape there was a considerable risk he might hex the git into next week.

Lily seemed to hesitate, and something like fear stirred in James's gut.

"Or, you know, I'll see you there, if you want to be alone," he said quickly, before she could refuse him first. "You can still have the pastries."

Her lips twitched – almost reluctantly, it seemed. "No," she said. "A walk would be nice. "Thanks for the breakfast." She took the pastries from him; he took her textbook to leave her hands free. "Raspberry's my favourite," she told him with her mouth full.

"I know," he said without thinking, and winced as she gave him a curious look. He decided to change the subject. "Looking forward to class, then?" he said, hoping he sounded off-hand. "Wonder what the old codger'll teach us today. Acromantulas? Chimeras? Manticores, perhaps?"

Lily laughed a little and James grinned. "I think he was banned from coming into contact with Manticores since he lost his right leg to one last summer. Anyway, he's on probation again, isn't he? After that incident with the Occamy last week."

James grimaced at the mention of the rumours that had been flying around the previous week about a whole class-full of third years that had spent the night in the Hospital Wing after their Care of Magical Creatures lesson.

"Puffskeins it is, then," he said, feigning a look of deep regret. "Ah well. Can't have excitement all the time."

"Doesn't sound like your usual tune," said Lily with a small smile. She took a bite from her pastry and swallowed. "_I _heard about what happened to the Slytherin Common Room at the weekend."

She seemed less angry than amused; James's heart lifted further. She seemed to have perked up considerably, and he was glad.

"Well, it was a special occasion," he said. "Thanks again for the birthday present, by the way."

"You've already said thank you," she reminded him. "Multiple times. It wasn't even that great; I'm sorry. I got to Honeydukes a bit late." She shrugged apologetically, but James's heart at leapt at the thought that she had gone to Honeydukes especially. "What did your parents get you?"

James grinned. "The new Nimbus 1500!"

Lily raised her eyebrows. "I take it that's a good broom?"

"Yeah, it's great. I thought it was a bit much to ask for, to be honest, so I didn't – it costs an absolute fortune and my 1101 does the job well enough. I wasn't that bothered when the Cleansweep Six came out at Christmas, but a Cleansweep's rubbish next to the Nimbus anyway. The 1500 only came out last month and I guess my parents decided to buy it." He grimaced. "You didn't really ask for a blow-by-blow account of the latest brooms, did you?"

"No," Lily agreed, but she laughed and James felt his mouth tugging into another grin. Merlin, she was just so much _fun _to be around.

"And…er, thanks for the dance – you know, on Saturday."

"Oh, well, that." She suddenly seemed flustered; she reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're…er, welcome."

She was nervous, though for what reason James didn't know. Did she _know _he was going to ask her out, he suddenly wondered with an icy drench of fear. And if she did, did her nervousness stem from excitement or dread? _Oh Merlin. _He could not get through the whole day like this.

Perhaps he should use this opportunity to test the waters a little, while his friends – and Snivellus – were out of earshot.

"So…er, do you know when the next Hogsmeade weekend is?" he asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

She did not look at him, but he could have sworn he saw her fighting off a smile. "I don't think it's until after the Easter holidays," she said. It was almost three weeks until the Easter holidays, which lasted for another two. But as James felt his heart sink, Lily added, almost casually, "Course, during Easter we can go to Hogsmeade when we like."

She still wasn't looking at him, but James stopped dead to stare at her as she carried on walking. Could she mean what he _thought _she was hinting at? He almost tripped over his own feet chasing after her.

"Evans! Evans."

"Yes, Potter?" She injected enough innocence into her tone, but when she stopped and turned to look at him, he could see amusement sparkling in her green eyes. "What is it?"

James swallowed, suddenly panicky. He was distantly aware that now was not the time; that he was supposed to wait until Defence Against the Dark Arts this afternoon, but the way Lily was looking at him was turning his brain into something resembling pumpkin juice. It wouldn't _matter _if he asked her out while they were alone, would it? If she said yes, Snivellus would be angry enough when he saw them holding hands… And he didn't _want _to use her; he didn't want her thinking he was only asking her out to annoy Snivellus…

"Evans," he said slowly, trying to keep his tone calm though his heart was beating erratically, "would you – "

"PRONGS! DUCK!"

James didn't need telling twice; with reflexes born of years on a broomstick, he dragged Lily to the ground, just as a white spell flew over his head, so close James felt his hair singe. But the next second he was back on his feet, whipping around, looking for where his best friend's shout had come from.

He didn't need to look far. Barely two metres behind them – blimey, he must've been oblivious to everything going on around him – were Snape and Sirius with their wands pointing at each other's throats. Sirius's face was impassive, but Snape's was twisted with fury: he had to have been the one who had fired the curse at James's back. James saw Remus and Peter hovering to one side, and berated himself silently. Of course he had not been alone; of course they wouldn't have trusted him not to make a fool of himself… The thought made James furious, but he caught a glance at Remus's white face and his anger died instantly. _Merlin, _if _he _had been the one to mess this up…

Sirius and Snape were still sizing one another up, circling one another like furious birds of prey. A sudden spark from Snape's wand made James jump, and he pulled out his own wand.

"_No!"_ There was a hand on his arm; Lily was gazing at him imploringly, pulling his arm down so that he was forced to lower his wand. "_Don't_," she said. "Let Kettleburn deal with it – " Her hand was still on James's arm; just in time he saw the twitch of Snape's hand.

"_Protego!"_ he yelled, pushing her behind him as the bright purple light rebounded off his shield, though he knew the curse had not been meant for Lily.

"I can look after myself, Potter," she said irritably, pushing him to one side as Sirius fired a hex at Snape. He missed and had to throw up a shield charm as Snape sent another curse at him.

"Boys! Boys! What are you doing?"

Everyone whirled around at once to see Professor Kettleburn hobbling up the hill with his wooden leg and a crutch. He was panting by the time he arrived; he took out a bright purple handkerchief to mop his brow.

"_What _is going on here?"

"Snape sent a curse at James's back," said Sirius, eying Snape furiously. "I should hex the greasy snake into next week."

"Too scared, Black?" Snape retorted. Before anyone could blink, a jet of red light shot from Sirius's wand; Snape threw up a shield just in time and the spell flew off at an angle as everyone ducked, before he jabbed his own wand in Sirius's direction, sending Sirius diving out of the way.

"Stop! Stop!" Kettleburn cried. "You'll frighten the foals!"

All heads turned to him for a second, dumbfounded, but then James's gaze slid down the hill, towards where their lesson was due to take place. Two golden unicorn foals were pawing the ground anxiously. He heard Lily sigh beside him, but Sirius, evidently, did not share her delight.

"Who cares?" he demanded. "_This _slimy git tried to curse James from behind! With Dark Magic!"

"I didn't," Snape denied. This was so typical of Snivellus – trying to get himself out of trouble – and it was typical that a teacher would swallow it, thought James irritably as Kettleburn's expression turned sceptical.

"Now, really, Mr Black, why would Mr Snape – "

"Because he was jealous!" Black snapped. "James was talking to Evans, and Snivellus – "

"Now, now, there's really no need for unkind names, Mr Black," said Professor Kettleburn mildly. "I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding – "

James and Sirius had opened their mouths together but Lily beat them to it.

"He did so curse James from behind, Professor," she said, throwing Snape a dirty look James privately revelled in. "Potter's back was turned and if it hadn't been for Black's warning…" She trailed off. Snape's gaze was fixed sullenly on the grass. Professor Kettleburn was looking between them, suddenly uncertain.

"Detention for both Mr Snape and Mr Black, I think," he said mildly, before turning to hobble back down the hill. Sirius and James exchanged aghast looks before they simultaneously lunged after their teacher.

"But Snape was using Dark Magic, sir – "

"If you'd just do _Priori Incantatem _on his wand – "

"I will do no such thing!" said Professor Kettleburn, his tone calm but his blue eyes flashing as he whirled around to face them again. "There's been quite enough magic here for one morning: any more will send the foals back into the Forest and it took me _four hours_ to track them down and persuade their mother to let me borrow them!"

As if this settled the matter, he turned around again and continued limping down the hill. James and Sirius stared after him as Remus and Peter caught up.

"Well, that's that, then," said Sirius flatly.

"I guess," said James. His gaze flickered nervously to Lily, but she was already storming off after Kettleburn. Snape looked very much like he wanted to chase after her, but his House mates had arrived and James realised in disgust that the Slytherin didn't want to attract the scorn of his dorm mates.

"It's cos Kettleburn only cares about his stupid animals," said Peter. He looked at James. "I thought you were going to ask her out this afternoon?"

It was the closest Peter would ever get to blaming James for something. Even though James _knew _it was his fault, he still felt defensive as Sirius and Remus carefully avoided his eye.

"It was a stupid idea anyway," he said furiously. "McGonagall's too fair – she never would've expelled Snivellus – "

"Well, we'll never know now, will we?" Sirius suddenly snarled, raising his head. "Couldn't control yourself for one more morning, could you?"

James almost started – Sirius _never _blamed him for anything – but before he could recover, his best friend had pushed past him and was striding angrily down the hill. James stared after him for a moment before he turned to Remus.

"I'm sorry, Moony," he said in a low voice. "It is my fault, isn't it?"

Remus's smile was thin. "It's all right," he said. "You're right. It _was _a stupid plan." But there was an odd note to his voice, a flicker of something in his expression that, once again, James could not quite decipher.

"We'll think of something else," he said. "We'll shut Snivellus up somehow. I promise."

Remus's gaze switched from where it had been watching the unicorn foals to James. "Don't you think perhaps you and Sirius have done enough?" His voice was calm, but the piercing look he gave James before he, too, set off down the hill left James feeling worse than any amount of shouting would have done.

"So what now?" Peter asked. James started. He'd almost forgotten Peter was there.

"We'll think of something," he repeated, but his tone – usually so confident – had never sounded more hollow to his own ears.

* * *

"Lily! Lily, wait!"

For once, Severus did not care that his dorm-mates were sneering behind him, nor that he would, no doubt, receive a great deal of flak for it later. All that mattered, at that moment, was that Lily had pointedly ignored him all lesson and that he now had just twenty minutes during break to get back in her good books.

But she was already halfway up the hill with Hornwick and McKinnon – thankfully, Potter and his friends had hung back, their heads bowed together, talking quietly.

"Lily!"

"_What, _Severus?" she said finally, turning around. Her tone was icy; her face set like stone. McKinnon and Hornwick had stopped too: both looked equally cool. Of course, he could expect no help from _them_.

"Can I speak to you?" he said. "Alone," he added pointedly.

Lily raised an eyebrow. "I think we've _talked _quite enough for one day, don't you?"

So she was still angry about earlier. But she had misunderstood him.

"It's not like that," he said. "You know it doesn't matter to me that you're Muggleborn."

There was a loud snort from McKinnon, but she said nothing.

"It's other people," Severus pressed on. "They don't like that Potter's hanging around – it's _them _that care, not me."

It was Hornwick who snorted this time, as McKinnon said, "Sorry, you mean your friends?"

Lily folded her arms. "So why were _you _the one to curse James Potter behind his back? That was a cowardly thing to do."

Severus stared at her. Didn't she understand he'd only done it to protect _her?_

"I was looking out for you!" he spluttered. "Potter – "

"Oh, what bollocks," McKinnon cut in. "We don't have to listen to this drivel. Come on, Lily."

She linked her arm through Lily's, but Lily hung back.

"If it's that you're jealous, Sev," she said, "I'd much rather you just _said, _you know?"

The look she gave him appalled him – a mixture of frustration, anger and pity. _Pity._

"Jealous?" he spat. "Why _I_ be jealous of _Potter?"_

But she was already walking up the hill, her curly red ponytail bouncing as she took each step away from him. He stood staring after her. He couldn't believe she thought he cared about her being Muggleborn – did she really think so little of him? And why did she care so much that he'd hexed Potter? It was only _Potter_, for Merlin's sake!

Potter. Severus turned, snarling, towards where the lanky Gryffindor Chaser was still talking to his friends. This was _his _fault. _He _was the one putting Lily in danger – _he _was the one slobbering all over her! He probably didn't even care; he probably thought that he, as a Pureblood, was doing Lily some sort of favour, when in fact _she _was far too good for _him. _Severus had never hated James Potter so much.

Before he had really comprehended what he was doing, he found himself striding over to the four male Gryffindors. He didn't draw his wand, but he was ready, his hand closed around it in his pocket. Potter was the first to notice him: he stopped talking, his expression instantly wary and full of dislike. Black, Lupin and Pettigrew turned to see what he was looking at.

"What do you want, Snape?" Potter asked.

"You'd better watch out, Potter," Severus almost growled. His fingers tightened around his wand.

Potter's expressed was suddenly cool, indifferent. "Sorry, Snivelly," he drawled, "am I supposed to be scared?"

It was all Severus could do not to curse Potter where he stood; Potter would never draw his wand in time; Severus would make him regret ever laying eyes on Lily… But Professor Kettleburn was still nearby, and so he waited for a moment, shaking, before he spoke again.

"You should be," he said, his tone as menacing as he could make it. "Just you remember, Potter, _I _know you sneak out at night. And I know," here he let his gaze move delicately to Lupin, "all about your furry friend."

The reaction was instantaneous: Black's wand was out before Severus had time to realise he'd moved, and his face was twisted into a snarl.

"Just you – "

"_Padfoot."_ Potter yanked Black's wand arm down; he had gone pale, but his tone was calm. "Let him think what he wants. If he thinks he's got it all worked out…" He met Severus's gaze coolly, but Severus was not convinced: this was merely a performance of Potter's, designed to protect his disgusting half-human friend.

"You don't fool me, Potter," he hissed. His gaze moved back to Lupin who, Severus noted with satisfaction, had remained silent. "You'd better keep an eye on them, Lupin. You wouldn't want a little…slip of the tongue, would you?"

Lupin, perhaps to his credit, merely paled, but he held Severus's gaze. Severus didn't know how he had the gall to do so. Disgusted, he spat at their feet; Potter and Pettigrew both jumped backwards.

"Just you wait," Severus said. He thought about adding some further threat, but decided that, from the expression on the Gryffindors' face, what he'd said was sufficient.

With a satisfied smirk, he turned on his heel and started walking towards the castle.

"Bloody hell," James breathed as they watched Snivellus's thin frame move up the hill.

"Little shit," Sirius said, shoving his wand back into his pocket. "I'll give him what for – "

"_No, _Padfoot," Remus pleaded. He had been very calm while Snape had been delivering his threats, but James could see now Remus was as white as a sheet. He put a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Why doesn't Snivellus just tell everyone?" Peter asked. Sirius turned on him with a glare, but James shook his head.

"I told you before," he said. "He wants proof. No good him going around just _telling _everyone; people might not believe him and, anyway, however convinced Snape sounds, he doesn't believe anything until he's seen it with his own eyes."

"So what're we going to do?" Peter was chewing his bottom lip.

"I reckon we should just hex the git good and proper," said Sirius moodily, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Show him what we're made of – what we'll do if he blabs."

"That's just – "

"Confirming it," Sirius finished for James. "Yeah, you've said. Repeatedly."

"Well, it's true," James snapped, irked that his best friend wasn't siding with him the way he usually did. "I'd rather he was guessing than we _told _him! Which is what you're suggesting."

"_I'd _rather we made sure he was going to keep his mouth shut," said Sirius pointedly.

"Can we please just _shut up?"_ Remus asked, his voice quiet. "Just leave it." James's gaze flickered to him, noticing how his shoulders were hunched; he'd never seen Remus look so depressed. James squeezed his shoulder, feeling more than a twinge of guilt for making Remus feel like this.

"We can't just leave it," said Sirius. "I wouldn't trust the slimy git as far as I could throw him. We've got to find a way of shutting him up."

"Could we disprove it, maybe?" James asked. "What if we produced Remus on a full moon? Polyjuice Potion?"

"No, that's really dangerous," said Remus sharply, raising his head. "Using werewolf hair on a full moon – it could be lethal."

"Not that, then." James sighed. "Look, we _will _think of something. I promise."

"_No!"_ Remus straightened up all of a sudden, throwing off James's hand and looking between them furiously. "I don't want you to do _anything, _don't you get it? You're just making it _worse_. If you just left him alone, he'd leave _us _alone! What makes it so hard for you to see that?"

And before any of them could speak, he had pushed past Sirius and was hurrying back up the hill towards school. He didn't look back.

* * *

It took approximately three hours before Sirius decided that this was, in fact, all Remus's fault.

Not Snape knowing, of course – that was just because the greasy cockroach wouldn't leave them alone. But the fact their plan hadn't worked, Sirius thought sullenly as he sat in Defence Against the Dark Arts, wasn't _James's _fault. If Remus hadn't been dead set against the plan in the first place – if he hadn't put all sorts of stupid rules in place, like that Snape wasn't allowed to actually hit James with any of his curses – they might have had a shot at success.

Perhaps it shouldn't have been surprising that Sirius changed his mind so abruptly. It was an undeniable fact that he routinely struggled to stay angry with James for long, just as James's extremely rare bursts of irritation with Sirius usually lasted mere minutes. But it was really that Remus was so dead set against Sirius's preferred course of action which turned Sirius's temper on him over James. Remus never _had _been able understand that when things got tough, you retaliated. Remus always like to avoid conflict wherever possible.

James wasn't like that.

And so it was that come lights out that night, Sirius was at James shoulder, shaking him awake and yanking him out of bed, even though he knew the fact there was only one set of snores meant that Remus was still awake and would be well aware that Sirius and James were sneaking off without him. James, to his credit, didn't argue: merely grabbed his Quidditch jersey and yanked it over his head as he followed Sirius from the room.

"Where are we going?" he asked as Sirius led him out into the corridor. He had the Invisibility Cloak draped over one arm; it was approaching midnight, but he made no move or suggestion that they put it on. They probably would have worn it, if Remus or Peter had been there to fret about them being caught, but for Sirius and James it was strictly for emergencies only. Sometimes they didn't bother with it at all: there was something much more fun in knowing you might get caught.

"Kitchens," said Sirius. "I want to talk to you."

"Oh?" James seemed amused, and Sirius had to concede, grudgingly, that it was unusual that he, Sirius, would drag James off for a were not, after all, _girls._ "Didn't know you were into heart-to-hearts, mate."

"Not usually," Sirius bit back. "But we need to sort out this thing with Snivellus."

James's face dropped immediately. "I…er…got the impression Moony wanted us to leave it alone," he said.

Sirius snorted. "Moony _always _wants us to leave it alone. When have we ever listened to him?"

James's mouth curved into a reluctant smile; satisfied, Sirius didn't speak again as they wandered the corridors down to the ground floor.

"Master Sirius! Master James!"

The House Elves were, as ever, delighted to see them: there were probably no other two students who frequented the kitchens quite so often. Sirius was often impatient with their over-eager attitude. James was always ridiculously nice to them: a trait that could only have come, Sirius sometimes thought, from having a family that actually owned a decent House Elf.

"Hello Blinky!" James said, bending down to talk to the beaming House Elf as Sirius rolled his eyes. "D'you think we could have some of that tart from dinner?"

"The one from Hufflepuff?" Sirius quipped, as the House Elf nearly wet itself in excitement as it sped away and James snorted, straightening up.

"Didn't know you wanted a threesome with me and Mildred Whippers, Padfoot," he said with a smirk. Sirius gave him a shove, but he couldn't help but grin.

"Well," James slid into a chair at one of the tables, "I think we can all agree that today was an unmitigated disaster."

"Agreed." Sirius sat down opposite him. James had a relaxed air about him, but Sirius knew him too well: he saw the flash of guilt behind James's glasses. No point in pushing the issue; maybe James _had _made a mistake, but if Remus hadn't been so against the whole plan from the start, and hadn't been so bloody _controlling _about it all, they might have had a decent shot in the first place. "And we only succeeded in winding Snivellus up."

"So what're we going to do about that?" James asked, sitting back in his chair and nodded his thanks to the Elf that placed a piece of lemon tart in front of each of them.

"Well," said Sirius delicately, knowing that his next comment was going to go down like a lead balloon, "I think you'd better back off Evans, for a start."

He had expected loud protestations, but James merely went silent, his eyes on the dessert in front of him.

"Can't we just lock him in a cupboard?" he muttered.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Bothered, mate? Thought she was 'just a bird'."

"Yeah." James's voice came out as a mumble. He reached up to mess his hair up at the back: a tic that Sirius was beginning to suspect was becoming automatic. He sat watching his best mate, realising, with some disconcertion, that James was a lot keener on Evans than even _Sirius _had realised.

"It's only for a bit, mate," he said, feeling bad all of a sudden. "Just until we get this thing with Snivelly sorted."

"Mmm." James picked up the spoon and pushed it into the tart. James didn't even _like _lemon tart, Sirius remembered. But it was Sirius's favourite: he wasn't a big one for desserts, and he liked them as sharp as possible. "So what _are _we going to do?" he asked quietly as Sirius picked up his own spoon.

Sirius's head jerked up from his dessert, his eyebrows shooting up. It was probably the only time he had ever heard James so uncertain and lost about something. It unsettled him: if James didn't have any bright ideas, they were probably in trouble.

"I still say we grab him by the collar and threaten to hex him so badly he'll be shitting jinxes into next year," said Sirius, stabbing his dessert with his spoon. It was all so _unfair_. It wasn't as though they'd been indiscreet. It wasn't that anyone had _told_. This was just Snivellus and his determination to get them all into trouble.

"Yeah, the issue is that it's an empty threat isn't it?" James sighed.

"What do you mean? You think I wouldn't do it?"

"It wouldn't matter if you did; by then it'd be too late. Snape would've told everyone so all we could do is get revenge. Moony would still be expelled."

James had always had better foresight than Sirius; they were both undeniably reckless, but James was more likely to think through the consequences, even if he usually decided the risk was worth it after all. Sirius didn't care if the risk was worth it or not. But Sirius had to admit that on this occasion James was right: a threat would only work if it could be made good _before _Snape opened his mouth.

"Maybe we should tell a teacher," said James at last.

Sirius's response was to choke on a piece of lemon tart.

"Are – you – joking?" he eventually spluttered. "_James Potter _is suggesting we _tell a teacher?"_

James folded his arms, evidently annoyed that Sirius was accusing him of being a teacher's pet. "It's for a good cause!" he said. "And it's not like they're not _aware _we know about Moony. They must. We're always in the bloody Hospital Wing."

"All right, Prongs." Sirius pushed back his plate and sat back in his seat. "We tell a teacher. What are they going to do? 'Have a word' with Snivellus? Ask him nicely to keep his mouth shut?"

"Padfoot – "

"Snivellus will just keep it hanging over our heads, gloating the best way he knows how – "

"I know," James interrupted. "I was going to say that you were right. But for another reason too, actually."

"Er…yeah?"

"Well," said James slowly, pushing his glasses up his nose with one finger, "Moony's made it quite clear he's the first werewolf to come to Hogwarts. And it's quite one thing Moony's dorm mates finding out about him, isn't it? The teachers – Dumbledore – they're probably willing to stomach that. But someone else finding out? Someone who we definitely dislike? Someone not even in our House? What's to say Dumbledore won't decide it's becoming too risky to have Moony at Hogwarts and ask him to leave quietly before the whole experiment blows up in the old man's face?"

Sirius sat very still, staring at James, but he knew instinctively that James's logic was flawless. Remus had been absolutely convinced that he would have to leave Hogwarts when _they _found out – an eventuality that was probably only precluded by the fact they were all right with it. Snape was _definitely _not going to be all right with it – which would make it quite likely Dumbledore would have to make a tough choice.

If Sirius had to choose between Snape and Remus, of course, he wouldn't have to think about it. But if the _teachers _were left to make that choice, Sirius didn't fancy a werewolf's chances.

"I still think Peter had the best idea," said James, "much as it pains me to admit it. Getting Snivellus out of the picture is the best option. We need to get him expelled. Without it being obvious that it's our fault."

He paused, looking thoughtful, but Sirius had already sat up very straight.

"That's _not _the only way to get him out of the picture," he said. "If he were to have an unfortunate…accident, let's say…"

James snorted, a light smirk playing around his lips. "Are you suggesting we off Snivellus? Appealing as the idea is, I reckon we've done enough Azkaban sentence-inducing activities this year."

"Not _off _him…not like _murder_…" Sirius's brain was working quickly. "There're loads of possibilities – spell gone wrong so it addles his brains…maiming…" He trailed off at the doubtful look on James's face. James _never _looked doubtful when they were batting ideas around.

"How do you expect to achieve that without getting ourselves in it?"

Sirius hadn't quite thought that far ahead. "Dunno."

"Maybe _Evans _could convince Snivellus to keep quiet – "

"_Evans? _You want to tell _Evans _about this?" Sirius was on his feet, staring at his best friend incredulously. "Have you _ever _known Evans to be any good at keeping a secret?"

"How would we know if she's kept it secret?" James shot back. Sirius scowled.

"We're not taking that risk, Prongs. One person too many already knows."

"So _what, _then?" James demanded. He didn't move from his seat, but he was staring Sirius down all the same. "_We don't have a plan_. We can't threaten him, we can't tell the teachers, _you _say we can't tell Evans – "

"There must be some way of getting him out of the picture!" Sirius sat down in his seat again, kneading his forehead with his knuckles. "If he won't hex you so badly he gets expelled – "

"Well, he might've done," said James. "I reckon he _would've _done. But Moony won't let us try again."

"No," said Sirius slowly. James recognised that tone; his head jerked up, his eyes alight with interest. "But Moony doesn't have to _know _about it, does he?"

James deflated rapidly. "But even if he lands me in the Hospital Wing, I don't reckon he'd get expelled for it. Don't you remember in our first year, when Gideon Prewett got put in the Hospital Wing for two weeks by Lucius Malfoy? Malfoy wasn't expelled."

Sirius did remember. According to the rumours, Madam Pomfrey hadn't even known what the curse was.

"There must be _something _bad enough to result in him getting expelled." But Sirius was increasingly feeling more and more doubtful. He didn't know _anyone _who had ever been expelled – other than his Great Uncle Licoris who had tried out some particularly nasty Dark Magic spells on unsuspecting Muggle-Borns during the school term. And they couldn't guarantee Snivellus would do something like that – Snivellus was too cunning to get caught doing something so stupid. "What does someone have to do to get expelled around here?" he grumbled. "I've got nearly a hundred detentions – "

"Ninety-five," James cut in with a grin.

"- And I've not got expelled."

"Hagrid was expelled for supposedly breeding Acromantulas under his bed," said James. "But I don't reckon even Snape's that weird." He pushed his glasses up his nose again. "Look, I reckon we're better off just making sure he doesn't get any proof; like I said before, Snivellus won't risk his pride by telling anyone until he knows for sure – "

"Ignore it and it'll go away?" asked Sirius, unable to hide the disbelief from his voice. "You've got to be joking! _That's _your solution?"

It was James's turn to scowl. "Got a better one?"

James's pessimistic attitude was bothering Sirius. James was usually full of optimism – even for things that only had a very slim chance of working. It had been him who had kept driving them to work at the Animagus transformation when they were close to giving up. But now he seemed like he viewed the whole thing as a lost cause already.

"We've never come up against something we haven't figured out," Sirius insisted.

"Look, Padfoot," James said, "the only thing I can really see working is if we get something really dirty on Snape. And then hold it over his head. Mutually assured destruction, if you will." His hazel eyes met Sirius's and they suddenly both sat up very straight.

"That's it, then, isn't it?"

"We've got to start trailing Snivellus."

"Bound to be _something – _he must have learnt all his Dark Arts from _somewhere_."

"Sounds a lot like blackmail, though."

"That's never stopped us before."

"And Moony won't approve."

"I don't think we'll tell _him_, do you?"

"Nah, better to find the dirt and then tell him we've got it sorted, I guess. What about Wormtail?"

Sirius's face wrinkled in disgust. "Wormtail's incapable of keeping anything from Moony."

"All right," said James, nodding in resolution. "It's settled, then. We give Snivellus a taste of his own medicine by finding out _his _little secrets." His eyes glittered in anticipation, and Sirius felt a smirk lift his lips.

Padfoot and Prongs. Working together; alone. This was them at their very best. Of _course _they were bound to come up with a solution. And it _wasn't _leaving Snivellus alone.

* * *

A/N: I solemnly swear the next chapter will be better AND will be delivered much quicker. In the meantime, please do let me know what you think. What do you like/not like? What are you looking forward to in the upcoming chapters?


	8. Division Among the Ranks

Disclaimer: All characters, place, objects and events you recognise belong to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Division among the ranks**

**6****th**** April 1976**

The key problem was that Snape just wasn't stupid.

It pained James a little to admit this fact: it was much easier to think of the Slytherin lacking brains as well as personal hygiene. It was certainly true that Snape was nowhere near the top of their year, except in Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts (and, as Sirius once pointed out, it was no wonder he knew how to defend himself against the same sort of curses he was so good at making up). Really, it seemed to James that if it were only a battle of wits, it should have taken at most a few days for him and Sirius to find some dirt on the greasy git.

But the fact remained that Snape was so bloody _suspicious: _it seemed he had taken all precautions to guard against anyone snooping into his life_. _They tried trailing him; he shook them off. The first time they stole his bag, they came up with nothing; but the second time Sirius found a nasty stinging hex that had him swearing non-stop until Madam Pomfrey put some salve on his hand.

"I actually tried to take out Snivellus from behind earlier," Sirius whispered as they stepped into the library the following Tuesday. "Thought I could Stun him and search his pockets, right? Never got a chance. Slimy git must've known I was following him, because he'd brought up a shield before I'd barely cast the spell."

"Is that what happened to your arm?" James murmured absently, looking around the library. It was already five o'clock, and it was starting to fill up. The previous day, Remus had calculated that they had exactly eight weeks until the OWLs started; unfortunately, he had done it rather loudly at the lunch table and within minutes, it seemed, the Great Hall was almost empty of fifth years, who had dashed to the library in a panic.

"Yeah; Pomfrey couldn't even get it to stop bleeding for half an hour." Sirius raised his arm, where bandages were protruding from under his rolled up shirt sleeves, so that James could see the red stain on the underside.

"How're you going to explain that one to Moony?"

Sirius shrugged, letting his arm fall back by his side. "That Snape got me as I came to your rescue?"

James was about to point out that he didn't normally _need _rescuing, but at that moment he spotted Remus in the corner, already at their favourite desk, looking like he was patiently trying to explain some Charm to Peter, who sat beside him. Neither seemed to have noticed James and Sirius; James took the opportunity to pull Sirius behind a bookshelf.

"Moony," he hissed.

"Yeah," said Sirius with a snigger, "he'll never believe we're here to study."

"Did you see Snivellus?" James whispered. Sirius shook his head, and James risked a look out from behind the bookshelf. He didn't see Snape immediately, but he caught a glimpse of dark red hair and, next to Lily Evans, inevitably, sat Severus Snape.

"I can't believe how quickly she forgave him," James muttered to Sirius, who grimaced, and clapped James on the shoulder.

"You know she's got no willpower when it comes to Snivelly, Prongs."

"Eurgh, you make it sound like she…" James couldn't even bring himself to say it. Shaking his head, he tried to concentrate on the matter at hand. "How're we going to do this?"

'This' happened to be their latest plot to try to get something on Snape: specifically, to get hold of the textbook Snape was always scribbling in. It had been James who had remembered the book's existence earlier that day, as they lamented their failure to find anything useful on the Slytherin – they'd got hold of it only once before, around January, when they'd had precisely enough time to find out about the _Levicorpus _spell before Snape had summoned it from their hands. They'd seen Snape with the same book in Defence Against the Dark Arts that afternoon, and he'd left straight away for the library, so they were reasonably certain he had it with him, if only they could get hold of it.

"Snivelly's got detention in five," Sirius whispered back. "With McGonagall. She caught him hexing me earlier." He grinned. "Worth it. Anyway, he's left his stuff in the library every night this week, hasn't he?"

"That was before we stole his bag," said James. "Twice."

"Yeah, but Evans is here, isn't she?"

Evans. James risked another look around the book case at the girl bent over a textbook, making careful notes. He hadn't spoken to her much in the last few days – not since he'd nearly asked her out and Snivellus had flipped out. He'd been busy, of course, trying to get some dirt on Snape, but he wasn't entirely sure she wasn't avoiding him. Was it because he had nearly asked her out?

"And how're we going to get it past her?" he asked, turning back to Sirius.

Sirius arched an eyebrow. "Desperate for an excuse to talk to her, aren't you? Here's your chance."

"I'm not _desperate_," James corrected. "And anyway – what, you want me to distract her with my wit and charm and just _steal the bloody thing from right underneath her nose?"_

"You're a Marauder," said Sirius, by way of answering. "Look – he's going – and he's left his bag there; you're all right."

"Moony's going to see me," James felt the need to point out.

Sirius shrugged. "You think he'll be surprised you're talking to Evans? We _all _know she's not just 'some bird', you prat. Off you go." And with a little shove in the small of his back, James stumbled forward out into the atrium of the library. He promptly tripped over a chair, drawing several annoyed looks, but thankfully not Lily's. Ignoring the other students, he pushed the chair back in, and started forward, squeezing his way through the tables, until he arrived at Lily's. She didn't look up until he dropped down loudly in the seat Snape had just vacated.

"Potter." Lily couldn't hide her surprise, but she recovered quickly.

"Evans." James tried to smile, but he realised, now he had sat down, that it was not Evans who had been avoiding him, but the other way round: he was not prepared to resume their previous conversation – what if she _expected _him to ask her out now? What if she still said no?

"Can I do something for you?" Lily arched an eyebrow, brushing her quill under her nose as she regarded him.

The urge to say something very-Sirius-like rose up in his throat, but James pushed it down hastily. "Er…not especially." He pulled the nearest book towards him: Lily's eyes dropped to the table and he put his hands in his lap immediately. "Y'know…just felt like we hadn't spoken in a while."

"Well, you know…" Lily gestured at the books in front of her.

"Are all these yours?" James asked, sensing an opportunity.

Lily gave him a look that suggested she didn't quite believe that he had no idea that Snape had been sitting in his place mere minutes before, but she answered anyway. "No. Just these." She gestured to the small pile beside her. "I'm doing Transfiguration. Those are Severus's," she added sharply, as James's hand reached out to the book in front of him. "So _don't _mess them up."

"All right, all right," James muttered. "So what're you revising?"

"Turning cauldrons into sieves."

"That won't help your Potions." At Lily's eye roll, James added hastily, "Maybe I can help. I'm pretty good at Transfiguration, you know."

Lily muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, "Everyone knows." But outwardly she gave a polite smile and said, "Actually, Severus has already been helping me."

She must have known it would wind him up, James thought moodily, as he stared at her pleasant expression.

"He's not even any _good _at Transfiguration," he said. "I bet he can barely turn a matchstick into a needle…" He reached out to pull Snape's books towards him, with the vague intention of proving how thick Snape was by the basic textbooks he was using, but before he could turn them over, Lily's hand shot out over his, preventing him from doing so. For a second, James stared at it. Her hand felt very soft. His eyes flickered up to meet hers. A faint blush was rising up in her cheeks. She pulled her hand away.

"Er…sorry," she muttered. "I was just – " But as James started to lift the book again, her hand shot out for a second time. "Er…do you want to go for a walk?"

Her voice was slightly too loud, drawing herself a disapproving _shush _from the librarian. But as James was contemplating that this was very bizarre behaviour from a girl who had just refused tutoring from him, he realised. _She knew. _His hand was poised over Snivellus's precious book – the Potions textbook they weren't even supposed to have until next year, for Merlin's sake. Snape never let anyone near that book. And Lily _knew_ – she knew there was something dodgy in that book, and she was stopping James from looking at it.

"Sure," he said easily. "Let's go for a walk."

Looking thoroughly relieved, Lily picked her robes up from the back of her chair and stood up, but James seized the opportunity to pull the book open at random.

He wasn't faced with pages of Snivellus's cramped, smudged handwriting, but instead with a full-sized picture of a grown werewolf. The writing on the opposite page told him it was chapter six, on recognising werewolves.

Heart hammering, James turned the book over to the front cover. _Werewolves: A Study in Brutality, _the front cover proclaimed.

"Potter," Lily started in a low voice, but James barely heard her. He turned the other books in front of him over. _How to Wound A Werewolf. The Werewolf Tales. Finding the Werewolf in your Midst. _

"Got…got a bit of an obsession, has he?" James asked, trying to keep his voice steady. His gaze flickered up to meet Lily's: she looked pale and unhappy. Did she know what Snape suspected? Had he _told _her?

"We're revising them in Defence next week," she said, sounding miserable. "Look, James – "

Not even the use of his first name could placate James.

"You ought to tell him," he said in a calm voice, "that there'll only be one question on the exam about werewolves. No point in doing all this reading."

Lily just hovered, her green eyes wide and anxious. _Shit_. What had Snape said?

"So…er…a walk?" James wanted nothing more, at that moment, to get away from Lily Evans, and her worried expression, but he knew it would be horribly obvious if he ran away, so he stood his ground. Thankfully, it was Lily who dropped her gaze.

"Y'know," she said, "I'd better not. I want to get the hang of this spell before dinner."

"Course. Understandable." James was already backing away, trying not to let his gaze drop to the desk and to all those _bloody books._

"Did you get it?" Sirius hissed, when he found James outside the library, leaning against the cold stone wall.

"I didn't see it," James mumbled. "It wasn't there."

"So…so what happened?" Sirius asked slowly, apparently cottoning on that something had gone badly wrong.

James took a deep breath and closed his eyes, massaging the space between his eyebrows with his thumb and forefinger.

"Padfoot," he muttered, "we _really _need that dirt on Snape."

* * *

**12****th**** April 1976**

Six days later, things were getting desperate.

On Wednesday, they did actually manage to Stun Snape and rifle through his pockets, but they should have known he'd be prepared: they were completely empty, except for his wand. On Friday, Sirius tried to create a distraction while James went for the book he'd spied in Snape's bag – but it turned out not to be _Advanced Potions Making_ but a particularly vile book called the _Monster Book of Monsters_.

"Who in their right mind would have created a book that _bit _people?" James demanded several times as Sirius rummaged under Remus's bed for the healing cream.

Mercifully, Remus seemed oblivious to everything, throwing himself into OWL revision in a way which normally would have James making noises about how unbecoming this was for a Marauder. Instead he found himself relieved both that Remus hadn't noticed their long absences and that he had taken it upon himself as a personal mission to ensure Peter passed all of his exams too. It was a particular stroke of luck, perhaps, that James and Sirius had never shown any inclination towards the library, because Remus never questioned their motives for staying away, and when he inquired as to what they'd been doing in his absence, they gave vague replies involving the kitchens, Quidditch, or insinuations that they had been off hexing other students – an activity Remus backed off rapidly from asking about.

Although outwardly they appeared relaxed, however, it was rather clear that things were getting serious. The full moon was almost upon them: Remus was getting paler by the day; and James had caught Snape throwing more than one glance in his direction – including a particularly pointed one the day they had been revising werewolves in Defence Against the Dark Arts that luckily Remus hadn't noticed (too busy trying to keep a low profile) but had made James grit his teeth and had put Sirius in such a foul mood he'd landed a sixth year Slytherin in the Hospital Wing for several hours.

And so, on day twelve, they bit the broomstick and entered enemy territory.

"I feel dirty just_ being _in here," Sirius complained as they stepped over the threshold of the fifth year Slytherin dormitory on Monday evening.

"Nonsense, Padfoot, this is an opportunity to experience everything your dear old mum ever wanted for her eldest son." James grinned, but it dropped as he surveyed the room, wrinkling his nose. It wasn't as though they hadn't broken into the Slytherin quarters before, but he'd never stepped foot in the dorms: they'd limited their havoc-wreaking to the Common Room and to the cold stone bathrooms that, unlike in the Gryffindor quarters, were situated separately from the dormitories – a fact fortunate for the Marauders, since it made sabotaging the Slytherins showers late at night much easier. Now, as he looked around the Slytherin dormitory, he had no regrets about not spending any time here. The walls were dark green, matching the heavy green silk hangings around each of the six beds. Silver snakes were entwined around the bed posts and each of the two curtain rails hanging above the huge arched windows. There was a strangely oppressive quality about the whole room, somehow every bit as richly furnished as the Gryffindor dormitories but lacking their homely quality.

"S'like my bloody house," Sirius grumbled.

James made a non-committal noise, still surveying the room. If they were going to get anything on Snape, this would be where they did it; this would be where Snape was at his most unguarded. And they needed it – badly. Just that afternoon James had overheard Snape telling Lily that the full moon was due in two days; fortunately, Lily hadn't seemed very interested, though her gaze had flickered to meet James's and James's stomach had turned unpleasantly. If Snape was telling people…

"Wonder which is Snivelly's bed?" asked Sirius, breaking James's brooding train of thought.

"Ought to be easy enough to tell," said James. He took another step forward across the dark stone floor, pointing to the bed to his right. "That's Rosier's – he's got his coat of arms above his bed."

"Pretentious git."

"And that's Avery's cloak hanging up on that one – look, that's got his family's crest on it."

"This is Mulciber's," said Sirius, picking up some robes that had been discarded on one of the beds in the middle, holding them up between pinched fingers to show how huge they were. He tossed them back onto the bed with an expression of distaste.

"So that leaves Burke, Jugson and Snivellus," said James slowly. Jugson's was easy to tell – James recognised the Slytherin Beater's broom that stood propped up at the end of his bed. But between Burke's and Snape's…

"It's this one at the end," said Sirius suddenly. "That's Burke's mother on his bedside table – I recognise her. She's pure-blooded enough to be invited to dinner with my parents, obviously…"

James grimaced, but went over to the bed at the end. His best friend had to be right, he realised: the shabby robes that were hung up over one of the silver bed posts might have been giveaway enough, but there was a faint odour of grease James recognised as he neared the four poster. It made him want to retch. _Best get it over and done with._

"You take the locker, then; I'll take the trunk," he said briskly, kneeling on one side of the bed and pulling out the trunk from underneath. It was just about the oldest trunk he'd ever seen, the leather almost worn through at the corners and _E.P. _in peeling letters on the front.

"Keep the Cloak to hand, won't you?" Sirius eyed the bed before, like James, he kneeled on the floor next to the bedside locker.

"Yeah; don't worry." It was a bit risky being there: it was only eight o'clock, but they hadn't been able to find a better time – they could hardly sneak in at night when the Slytherins were all sleeping. James and Sirius might have been reckless, but they weren't suicidal. Dinner could have been a better time, but Remus would have noticed. In any case, their luck appeared to be holding for now but they'd have to keep their wits about them. _And best to be quick, _James thought, eying the trunk in front of him. But as Sirius reached out to open the locker, a nasty thought occurred to James and his hand shot out to grab his friend's arm.

"Hang on. I bet you anything Snape's put a jinx on it. I would if I shared a dormitory with Mulciber and Rosier and the rest of them, wouldn't you?"

"Right." Sirius drew his hand back quickly, fumbling in his pocket and drawing out his wand. He levelled it at the bedside locker, clasping the doorknob tightly with his left hand. _"Protego!"_ he said sharply as he yanked the door open. He flew backwards; James saw the jinx shoot out in orange sparks, but a silvery shield had materialised in front of Sirius, who was now lying on his back on the floor, and the jinx hit the shield and dissolved.

"Good job you thought of that," said Sirius, as James offered him a hand up. "Go on – you'd better do the same with the trunk…"

James did, but the trunk turned out to be completely harmless, and he soon found out why. There was absolutely nothing of interest in it – just some old clothes.

"Looks like it was made in the 1940s," said James with a snigger as he held up a velvet waistcoat that looked at least two sizes too big for Snape. "And _sweet Merlin, _I hope Snivelly's washed these pants." He picked up a greying pair of underpants with his wand, depositing them on the bed.

"Probably about as often as he washes his hair," said Sirius, rifling through the bedside cupboard. "This is absolutely useless – where's all his _stuff?_"

"Yeah, bit weird, isn't it?" James shifted through the few items in the trunk – a few pair of very old-looking socks and a few textbooks from their earlier years that were on the verge of falling apart. "Maybe he keeps it somewhere else." But then something caught his eye – a flash of a face – and he pulled out a picture of a very sullen-looking woman with a long thin face and heavily set eyebrows. Her sour expression looked oddly familiar, and James realised with a jolt that it had to be Snape's _mother. _He was about to throw it over to Sirius with a laugh, but as he turned it over he saw a note written on the back.

_Know you don't have many photos of me; this was the only one I could find._

"Padfoot," he said slowly, turning the picture back over to look at the glaring woman again. "I really think this is all he owns."

"He better hope to Merlin he never gets invited anywhere they'd expect him to look decent, then," said Sirius coolly. He sat back on his heels. "All I've found here are a few boring let – "

He suddenly froze. They both did.

Footsteps and voices outside.

"_Shit_."

"_Quick."_

It was so close James was gritting his teeth; he shoved the trunk hurriedly under the bed; and he and Sirius dived under the Cloak. But they'd both grown more than they'd banked on, and they found themselves backed up against the wall, bent in a painful half-crouched position so that the Cloak covered their feet, just as Mulciber and Avery wandered into the room.

"Be quick, won't you?" said Avery airily, as he wandered over to his bed. "Lestrange has got a hell of a wand up his backside about something today; I don't want to be late."

"You didn't have to come," Mulciber grunted.

"Wanted my cloak, didn't I?" Avery unhooked the item in question from his bedpost and threw it around his shoulders.

"We're not even going outside."

"I know," said Avery, but he stroked the family crest on his cloak, and his purpose for wearing it was obvious. Mulciber muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "pretentious prick", before he turned away, kicking off his shoes. James could see he'd spilt something – it looked like Pumpkin Juice – down his front. James realised what was going to happen a moment before it did; Mulciber suddenly started undoing his buttons, revealing a pale, thick-set chest, already beginning to be matted with dark hair.

"Always knew he was part pygmy-puff," Sirius breathed. James had to stifle a snigger, and then a groan as Mulciber pulled down his trousers. _Bloody hell_. This was _not _something he had ever wanted to see.

Avery had told Mulciber to be quick, but for several moments he just stood in the middle of the room, hands on hips, clad only in his underwear and socks. James's legs, set in a half crouched position, were beginning to burn.

"Will you hurry up?" said Avery impatiently.

"Yeah," said Mulciber. "I just realised all my school trousers are in the wash."

"So just wear your robes."

"What?" Mulciber was outraged. "Who do you think I am – _Snape?"_

This earned him an appreciative guffaw from Avery, but Mulciber was evidently now in a bad mood; he stormed over to the wardrobe, yanked open the doors, and started to rifle through the trousers.

"What? They're not yours…" Avery said as Mulciber held up a pair of black trousers.

"Jugson's, aren't they?" said Mulciber, pulling them on.

"Yeah, and he's about three inches shorter than you, you idiot," said Avery, just as Mulciber buttoned them up. They were indeed rather short around the ankle. Mulciber inspected them rather critically, before looking up at Avery with an expectant expression.

"Can't you lengthen them or something?"

"No fucking way; Jugson will kill me if I ruin his best trousers."

Now James's legs were really starting to ache; judging by the way Sirius was shifting his weight beside him, his best friend was in the same predicament. _Come on, just wear the bloody trousers…_

"I'll do it, then," said Mulciber, striding across the room to retrieve his wand.

"_No_ – you're useless at Charms; we'll be here all night. Let _me_."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Sirius hissed between his teeth. "It's the world's easiest spell." His legs were beginning to shudder slightly under the strain of remaining in their half crouched position. Wincing, James raised his left hand a little, pointing downwards. Sirius nodded quickly, and then, painfully slowly, they started to lower themselves to a crouching position on the floor. But Sirius's ankles gave out at the last second. He fell sideways – and out of the protection of the Cloak.

"What was that?" Avery demanded, spinning around quickly, but James was already throwing off the Cloak, levelling his wand and shouting, "_Coniunctivitis_!" Avery let out a howl as his hands flew to his right eye and he staggered backwards; Mulciber whipped around surprisingly fast for someone so large, but behind James Sirius shouted, "_Titillando!"_ and Mulciber was suddenly bent over double, wheezing heavily.

"Time to go!" Sirius called, pulling at James's sleeve. Together, they bolted from the room, Invisibility Cloak slung over Sirius's arm.

"Should – we – put – the – Cloak – on – through – the – Common – Room?" Sirius panted as they legged it down the staircase.

"Nah – if we're quick, we'll make it," said James, hearing the ominous thumps above them that could only mean Mulciber had recovered from Sirius's tickling hex and was now bent on following them.

"Trespassers!" Mulciber was howling above them as they stumbled into the Slytherin Common Room. "Gryffindors in the Slytherin dorms!"

James faltered as every head in the Common Room turned towards them. But it seemed strangely empty – there could not have been more than twenty students in there –

"Come _on, _Prongs," Sirius hissed. "They're all young anyway."

Sirius was right, James realised as he allowed Sirius to drag him towards the exit to the Slytherin Common Room. None of the students there could have been above second or third year – there wasn't a single one from any of the older years. Where _were _they all?

They burst out of the Common Room into the dungeons corridor quite unceremoniously: Sirius pushed James through and then promptly tripped over him.

"C'mon," said James, dragging Sirius up. "Mulciber's probably spitting dragon claws – "

"We could take that idiot," Sirius grumbled, but evidently he understood as well as James did that landing themselves in the Hospital Wing was bound to draw questions from Remus, because he got to his feet and started jogging after James.

As they rounded the second corner, however, James suddenly halted to a stop. Sirius stopped too, looking confused.

"What?"

"I can hear something," said James, a second before he realised it was voices, and they were close. _Far _too close. "Back up," he hissed, pushing Sirius back around the corner just as he caught a glimpse of one shiny shoe appearing around the next corner. "Under the Cloak!"

No sooner had they swept the Invisibility Cloak over themselves – thankfully crouched on the floor this time – than Mulciber and Avery staggered into view. Avery's right eye was looking very red; Mulciber merely looked furious.

"They're here somewhere!" he spat out as he neared James and Sirius. "Otherwise they would've run into the others."

"Who _cares_?" said Avery. He rubbed his eye, looking irritated. "We haven't got time to go after them now – Nott and Lestrange'll be furious if we're late again."

"I bet they'd like it if we got Potter and Black, though," Mulciber muttered. "Filthy blood traitors…"

"Careful, Mulciber," said Avery, his tone suddenly complacent. "Black definitely ranks above you when it comes to blood – probably Potter too, come to think of it – "

"Don't compare _me _to that filth!"

"Calm down, Mulciber," came an amused voice behind them. With ice cold dread, James turned, but he already knew who it was – felt Sirius stiffen beside him, and recognised the haughty, aristocratic tone Sirius had once had.

James always found it very disconcerting, looking at Regulus Black. It was like looking at Sirius – if a Sirius James had known eighteen months before – but with minor adjustments in detail: a slightly weaker chin, a pointier nose, a more babyish face, eyes that never held any of the laughter that Sirius's did. James always had the sense that he was looking at a Sirius Black that might have been.

"Sod off, Black," said Mulciber venomously.

The amusement dropped from Regulus's face. "What's got your wand in a knot?"

"Your brother," Mulciber spat, before Avery kicked him, evidently annoyed that Mulciber was about to reveal to a fourth year that they had been bettered by a couple of Gryffindors. But Regulus, although never quite as brilliant as Sirius, wasn't stupid.

"Got the better of you again, did he?" Somewhat surprisingly, Regulus's lips were twitching, as though he found this very funny. James's gaze slid sideways to look at Sirius. His friend's stare was fixed on his younger brother, though his expression was blank.

"You're about to be late," said Avery, apparently having had enough of the younger Black. "Hadn't you better be running along?"

"Hadn't _you?"_ Regulus returned pointedly, but he stepped past Avery and Mulciber to continue down the corridor and around the corner.

"Arrogant tosser," Mulciber muttered, glaring after Regulus. "Acts like he's so much better than the rest of us – "

"He _did _win the last match against Ravenclaw," said Avery. "Anyway, c'mon; he's right; _we _don't want to be late, either."

James slumped against the wall as Mulciber and Avery disappeared around the corner, but Sirius scrambled to his feet, throwing off the Invisibility Cloak.

"Where are they _going?"_

"Who cares?" James said, perturbed by Sirius's sudden agitation. "Probably going off to compare their favourite curses or something…" As he trailed off, he realised that had been exactly the wrong thing to say: something very strange flickered in Sirius's face – something that James wasn't accustomed to seeing. "Look," he said awkwardly, "they're probably just having a party or something – "

"As if the Slytherins have bloody _parties_, Prongs," Sirius snapped. "Let's just follow them, yeah?"

He strode off around the corner, and there was nothing James could do but to follow.

"But you don't even _like_ your brother," he said. "Last Christmas you said he was a pompous little – "

"So what?" Sirius's tone was flat; it gave very little away, but made James realise, in that instant, that as an only child he would _never _understand the weird relationship Sirius seemed to have with his brother. Sirius's whole family was into the Dark Arts, and Sirius generally did a pretty good job of acting like he didn't care, but somehow the subject of Regulus got underneath his skin.

"Well, what're you going to do when you find out?" James pressed, almost jogging to keep up with Sirius's stride. "Take all of them on at once? You reckon your brother will thank you for it?"

Sirius said nothing – just kept following the voices around the next corner, and the next… They weren't far from Slughorn's office, James suddenly realised; they'd have a hard time explaining why they suddenly had such an interest in being in the dungeons…

And then the voices ahead died very suddenly. Sirius picked up his pace; they rounded the next corner and –

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing, except a blank stone wall. It was a dead end.

For a minute they just stared.

"Where did they go?" Sirius asked at last.

In spite of himself, James turned slowly on the spot. There was nowhere they _could've _gone around this corner. Unless they'd transfigured themselves into the pile of cauldrons sitting in the corner of the abandoned section of corridor (unlikely), the only explanation was that they weren't _here._

"They must've gone somewhere else," said James slowly.

"They didn't – we _saw _them turn this corner!" Sirius was unnaturally agitated.

"We didn't; we must've got it wrong," said James – uncertainly, since he wasn't used to being anything but right. He _had _thought they'd come this way, but they'd only been following the sound of voices, and it was obvious they weren't here…

"We _didn't_."

"What does it matter? I reckon we should get going – Moony'll be down here patrolling for firsties soon…"

Still Sirius didn't move. He was staring at the wall with a blank expression.

"Padfoot?"

Sirius blinked several times, as though remembering where he was, before he turned to James.

"You're right," he said. "We should go before – "

"Before what?" came an amused voice behind them. Wincing, James turned to see the two people he had been hoping to avoid: Remus and Lily, on Prefect patrol. But Remus, far from looking suspicious at their presence in the dungeons, was actually smirking slightly, apparently amused at having caught them in what he must have thought was a prank on the Slytherins. It made James cringe internally, that Remus was so trusting of them; that they were betraying that trust.

_Not betraying. Trying to save him from himself._

Or some equally unconvincing bollocks, James thought, his gaze sliding uneasily from Remus's face to Lily's. She, unlike Remus, did not seem to find their presence at all amusing: instead, she was frowning slightly, her eyes skipping between James and Sirius.

"What're you doing down here?" she asked finally, her tone suspicious.

"Marauding, obviously," said Sirius before James could open his mouth.

"Here?" Lily's eyes were narrowing, moving pointedly around the small space they were standing in.

"We got lost?" James offered. Both Remus and Sirius turned to give him incredulous looks, and James had to admit that was probably the worst excuse he'd ever offered. Lily's eyebrows rose.

"You got lost," she repeated.

Sirius snorted. "Obviously not. But use that brain, Evans. We're not here for extra Potions practice."

"Pity, you need it," Lily shot back. She nudged one of the old cauldrons with her foot. "If you're playing some _prank_, though, this isn't a very good place to do it, is it?"

"We weren't just _playing some prank_," said James, irked by her dismissive tone. "We were –"

"-Playing the best prank ever," Sirius cut in smoothly. James opened his mouth to protest, but a quick warning glance from Sirius told him to keep his mouth shut. For once, Sirius was the one thinking more clearly: they could not possibly raise Remus's suspicions by admitting that they had been trailing Slytherins.

"Well, then," said Lily. "If I were you, I'd find somewhere more noticeable to conduct said activities." She crossed her arms, and waited.

This seemed to James to be an excellent opportunity for them to make their leave, but his gaze flickered to his best friend, who had folded his arms to match Lily's, another smirk playing around his lips.

"Sorry, Evans, was there something else?" he asked.

Lily pursed her lips. "Well, aren't you going?"

Sirius made a great show of looking at the blank wall, and then at the ceiling. "Nah," he said. "This is where the party's at. I think I'll stay."

It was not untypical of Sirius to want to wind up someone because it was funny, but as Lily's jaw clenched, it occurred to James how weird it was that Lily was _getting _wound up. Why did she care so much?

Principle, he concluded. Lily had dismissed them and they hadn't gone. Prefects could get weird about these things, James had discovered. A little bit of power and then…

"Move it, Black."

"D'you know," said Sirius, leaning against the wall, "I don't think I will."

"_Black – "_

"It's not curfew for fifth years yet, Evans," Sirius said coolly. "Make me."

"There's nothing here, Black!" Lily hissed, looking to Remus for help.

"Then why are you so bothered?" Sirius shot back.

Lily stared furiously at him for several seconds, before, apparently with great effort, she turned around.

"Fine," she said, and it sounded very much like it came out between gritted teeth. "Stay here and play with a load of old cauldrons. But don't think I won't report you if I hear you did something – "

"C'mon, there's no need for that," Remus started, but he quietened hastily as he received the full force of Lily's glare.

"Come on, Remus," Lily bit out, throwing Sirius and James dirty looks. "Let's go."

"Yes, Perfect Prefect, off you go," said Sirius with a smirk. It was Remus's turn to glare, but he followed Lily around the corner and out of sight. James turned to Sirius.

"What's the big deal?"

"Absolutely nothing," said Sirius with a broad grin. "It was good winding her up, though, wasn't it?"

_No_, James wanted to say. _Now she bloody hates us. Hates me. _

But Sirius's expression was such that James knew Sirius was challenging him, trying to goad him into admitting his feelings out loud. He merely shrugged. Apparently bored, Sirius straightened up, folding his arms across his chest.

"Well, what's the plan now, deer boy?" he asked. "What're we going to do to get dirt on Snivelly now?"

At least he'd been suitably distracted from the question of exactly where Regulus Black had been going with the likes of Mulciber and Avery, but as James looked around the small space they stood in, he found he didn't have an answer. The dormitory had been their last ditch attempt.

"I think," he said slowly, "we'd better start thinking of ways to take Snivellus out of action on Wednesday night."

* * *

**13****th**** April 1976**

It may not have taken long for Lily to forgive Severus for his hexing Potter two weeks before – it never did, since Severus could always point out some way in which it had been justified – but Lily's cold shoulder had given Severus enough of a scare that there was still a little squirm of pleasure in his gut when Lily nudged up to him in the queue to the Potions classroom on Tuesday afternoon.

"Work with me, Sev?"

"Of course," he said with a small smile. "I'd love to."

Severus took great satisfaction in the scowl Potter threw him over Lily's shoulder. Of course, he thought bitterly, it was about time he got one over on Potter. Potter and Black seemed to have spent the last two weeks permanently poking their nose into Severus's business. Severus still felt like he'd been drenched in ice every time he thought about the fact Potter and Black had been through his belongings, seen his pitiful lack of possessions, and must, even now, be revelling in his paucity. He wouldn't have known who had left his bedside locker unlocked and his few spare clothes strewn over the bed, but Avery had spent most of the night complaining bitterly about his sore eye and the story had eventually come out.

Severus wasn't an idiot. He knew exactly what Potter and Black were doing – had realised almost immediately, and had spent a whole evening (having thrown them off) trying to find somewhere to hide the few things he really prized: a few books on the Dark Arts he had managed to pick up in Knockturn Alley cheaply; his Potions book, with all his made up spells scribbled in it; a few presents Lily had given him as birthday presents. Severus was glad, now, that he had: it was worth stomaching Potter and Black thinking he had even less than he did to stop them from going through the belongings he cared about.

"Come in, come in!" came Slughorn's jolly voice from inside. The fifth years started shuffling in slowly, but Lily took Severus's hand and squeezed through so that they were first in. Severus was so taken aback – when was the last time they had _held hands?_ He had not _prepared _himself for this! – that he barely noticed where Lily was dragging him to until she released his hand and fell into the seat she had chosen.

"Back of the class?" Severus asked, raising his eyebrows. Slughorn, too, looked mildly put out that his favourite had chosen to place herself in the usual haunt of those who couldn't stand Potions. Severus knew that Potions wasn't Lily's preferred subject, but Slughorn was her favourite teacher and even though she didn't like the act of potion-brewing itself, she enjoyed the banter she and Slughorn shared.

Evidently today she wasn't in the mood.

"Yeah," was all she said, as she started to unpack her Potions kit. Slightly bemused, Severus sat down next to her.

Luckily, Lily wasn't the type to suffer in silence for long. As soon as Slughorn had delivered his instructions and the general chatter and clatter started up, Lily was ducking behind their cauldron.

"I need to talk to you," she hissed.

"And there was me thinking you actually wanted to partner me," said Severus dryly as he pulled the Gillyweed root towards him.

"_Obviously _I wanted to partner you," Lily returned. "But we need to talk about…_you know." _She lowered her voice. "That _thing _I'm not supposed to tell anyone."

Severus nearly dropped his knife. "You _haven't _told anyone, have you?" His voice was deliberately quiet, but he didn't quite manage to remove the panic from it.

"Of course not!" Lily's outraged expression betrayed her hurt feelings. "But I'm worried that someone…some _two _people might be close to finding out…" Her tone was layered with emphasis, and she put her head around Severus's side of the cauldron to look very pointedly at the two individuals sitting diagonally across from them, leaning back in their seats and obviously not doing any work.

"Potter and Black?" Severus asked, turning back to Lily. "How could _they…?"_

But he already knew. They had been rifling through his belongings in his dorm; they had been disturbed by Mulciber and Avery who had stopped by before the meeting last night. Avery obviously hadn't said as much, but it was easy to imagine that the two Slytherins had been less than discreet – that they had said _something _that raised Potter and Black's suspicions…

"How much do they know?" he croaked.

"Not much, I don't think. But, _Sev_, Remus and I caught them right next to the entrance to your meeting place last night, and they were _so _suspicious – they must've known _something _was going on; there's nothing else close by, is there?" Lily's eyes were wide.

"No," said Severus, with a feeling of dread. If there was one thing he knew about James Potter, it was that a ticking off from a Prefect – even if that Prefect was Lily Evans – would only fuel his determination to find out what was going on.

"But how would they know?" Lily pressed.

"They were in our dorms yesterday evening," said Severus miserably. "They must've overheard Avery and Mulciber – "

"Wait a minute, they were _in your dorm? _What _for?"_

_Oh Merlin_. The last thing he felt like doing was conveying the humiliation of finding out that his two mortal enemies had been through his belongings. On the other hand, it _did _paint Potter in a bad light…

"They were going through my things," he admitted.

Lily's reaction was predictable and immediate. "That's outrageous! They've got no business going through _your _private…" She trailed off, her face suddenly blank. "Why were they going through your belongings?"

"I – " Severus knew perfectly well why they'd gone through his stuff, of course. They wanted something on him – something, he assumed, that they intended to use to keep him quiet in some way. It had been humiliating to discover they'd been through his belongings, but he'd comforted himself with the thought that there was nothing to find. But what if Lily was right – what if they found out about the Slytherins' meetings?

Severus's gaze flickered in the direction of Potter, who was currently laughing with his three Gryffindor friends, seemingly oblivious to Severus's calculating gaze. Lupin, however, caught his eyes mid-laugh. The smile dropped from his face instantly. And Severus knew what he had to do.

"Sev?" Lily asked.

Severus's eyes flickered to her before, very deliberately, he turned his head in the direction of the four male Gryffindors again.

"I don't know," he said, raising his voice so that it carried over the space between them. "Maybe Potter and Black went through my stuff because there's some sort of _monstrous _secret Potter and Black think I know and they're trying to find a way to keep me quiet."

The effect was instantaneous: all four heads snapped around. Lupin looked like he might actually throw up; Pettigrew's eyes looked like they were threatening to pop out of his head. Black's expression was murderous. But it was only Potter Severus was focused on – Potter, who Severus had never seen look so worried… He, Severus, had achieved that…

"But that's OK," he continued loudly, his gaze fixed on Potter, who was rapidly turning pale. "I'm sure they know that if they kept doing that sort of thing I'd tell their secret to the whole school."

Potter was turning greener around the gills by the second as he stared at Snape; he only appeared to come to his senses as Black launched himself out of his seat, and Potter grabbed the back of his robes, hissing something at him. Satisfied, Severus turned his head away to look at Lily. She was eying him with suspicion: of course, his tone had been far too loaded for it to have sounded like mere speculation.

"Sev, what – "

"Better get on with shredding that Salamander skin," Severus interrupted. "S'got to be added in the next five minutes." He picked up his knife again, and began deliberately chopping the Gillyweed root.

"Sev," Lily tried again.

"Here you go," Severus pushed the chopped root at her. Lily didn't even look down.

"Severus Snape," she hissed, her green eyes narrowed to slits. "I'm not stupid, you know."

"No one ever said you were," said Severus carefully.

Lily looked like she very much wanted to say something else, but evidently she thought better of it, because resignation crossed her features and she finally looked down at his chopped roots, eying it critically.

"The book said _horizontally_," she said.

"It will work better if they're chopped diagonally," said Severus. "Better absorption. Trust me."

And taking that to be the end of the discussion, he raised the chopping board and shook the roots into the cauldron.

* * *

"D'you think he meant…_you know?"_

_Monstrous secret._

"Of course he did, Wormtail, you twit. I'm going to bloody _kill _that slimy idiot – "

_Monstrous secret._

"But what have you been _doing_? What was he talking about – going through his stuff?"

_Monstrous. Secret._

Remus sat in Transfiguration, sweating and shivering, unable to focus even a tiny portion of his attention on the dinner plate he was supposed to be transfiguring into a mushroom, as his friends' whispered conversation washed over him. It occurred to him that he had probably never been so bloody terrified in his whole life. His parents had always been wary enough for the three of them to ensure that they moved from village to village fast enough so that no one _could _find out. When Albus Dumbledore had turned up on their doorstep all those years ago, it had been Lyall and Hope Lupin who had been the terrified ones. But times had changed. Coming to Hogwarts had meant accepting that his parents could not look out for him every step of the way. When someone sniffed too close to his secret at school, he could not just move onto a different village.

The only time he had come remotely close to feeling like this, he reflected miserably as he studied the porcelain dinner plate in front of him, was three years ago, when he'd arrived back to his dormitory after a full moon to have James sling his arm conspiratorially around his shoulders and tell him that they _knew_. They'd found out his secret. And Remus had been utterly convinced that he'd be on the Hogwarts Express back to London in hours.

However scared he'd been then, however, it had been short-lived. His dorm mates had shown, unquestionably, that they were first and foremost his friends, and had sworn they wouldn't tell anyone. Remus had spent at least a week worried they might change their minds, but, when he reflected on it now, he knew that was never really on the cards. They were too damned _loyal. _Once, in fourth year, after one attempt at an Animagus transformation had gone particularly badly, Remus had prepared himself, not for the first time, that they would give up: decide that he simply wasn't worth it. He hadn't _said _very much, but James, of course, had latched onto it straight away.

"_Friends do everything they can for one another," _he'd said fiercely. _"Don't you dare doubt us again."_

Remus knew, then, that he'd never really had anything to fear from his friends.

The same could not be said for Severus Snape.

_You know, the other night. The full moon._

_When you were oh-so-conspicuously absent._

_Monstrous secret_.

Suddenly overcome with despair, Remus bent over, leaning his pounding head against the cool porcelain of the dinner plate.

_There's no way he's going to blab while it's only a hunch, _James had said. Remus had wanted so desperately to believe him. But James had been oddly quiet since Potions, and Remus knew why. It wasn't _confirmation _Snape wanted in order to blab: it was an _excuse_. Twice Snape had said things in hearing distance of other people – both times because he'd been provoked. Remus had been able to see it straight away – the very reason he'd told James and Sirius to leave off. But, of course, they hadn't, he thought bitterly. They thought they knew better. While Remus – naïve, trusting Remus – had increased his time in the library to do his OWL revision, James and Sirius had quietly been trying to get dirt on Snape to keep him quiet.

About Remus's _monstrous secret_.

"Moony? You all right, mate?" James's voice was low in his ear, but Remus's response was to close his eyes.

"Wake up, Lupin, unless you want detention with me this evening," came Professor McGonagall's sharp voice. Remus opened his eyes to see her hovering above him. Reluctantly, he pulled himself into an upright position, contemplating his plate rather resentfully. He shouldn't really be worried about detention when it was expulsion he was facing.

"Your plate won't turn into a mushroom just by _looking _at it, Lupin!" Professor McGonagall said impatiently. "And as for you two – stop _gossiping _and do some work!" Sirius and Peter stopped their whispering momentarily, starting up again when their Head of House moved back to the front of the classroom. Remus regarded the back of her head, with her hair scraped back into a tight bun in a way oddly suited to her personality. What would she say, if he told her what Snape had said? She had an obligation to him, as Head of his House, didn't she? She wouldn't be allowed to expel him just for asking for advice, would she?

"Go on without me," he muttered to his friends at the end of the lesson. "I'll catch you up."

They hovered uncertainly, but finally James nodded and they moved off out of the classroom, leaving it empty of students as Remus approached the teacher's desk at the front of the classroom.

"Er…Professor McGonagall? Could I…er…speak to you, please?"

Professor McGonagall looked up from where she was sorting through the essays she'd collected, surveying him over her glasses with her beady gaze. "Yes, Lupin?"

Only now he was here, Remus didn't really know what to say.

"I was disappointed by your performance today, Lupin," said Professor McGonagall, arching an eyebrow. "Is there something bothering you?"

"I…er…" Oh bloody Merlin. Why couldn't he just get the words out? "Er…Professor…I was just wondering – hypothetically, of course – what would…happen if another student found out about my…" _Monstrous secret. _Remus swallowed. "Condition?"

Both of Professor McGonagall's eyebrows shot up: evidently, whatever she had been expecting, this was not it. "Is this about Potter and Black and Pettigrew, Lupin? Because as far as I understand it, the Headmaster is willing to turn a blind eye to their knowledge, in light of the fact they're obviously to be trusted – "

"No," Remus said, and his face flamed. "No…I was just wondering, if, you know, someone else found out. Not a Gryffindor, say."

Professor McGonagall regarded him with a mixture of pity and concern. "Lupin, you know quite well you're to keep it a secret. If this is about some girl – "

"It's not!" Remus interrupted loudly. Professor McGonagall blinked, and he winced. "Please," he said. "Please, let's just say someone found out…er, accidentally. What would happen?"

"Well," said Professor McGonagall, adjusting her glasses, "I'm afraid that would be up to the Headmaster. It would be down to him to decide whether your remaining at Hogwarts would be a viable option. But the Headmaster has already taken a great risk allowing you to come to Hogwarts; the Governors certainly wouldn't like it; he might even be sacked." She surveyed him keenly over her spectacles. "I really would press upon you to keep it to yourself."

"Right," said Remus, his heart sinking horribly. "Right."

"I'm sorry, Lupin." Professor McGonagall's voice was gentle. "I realise it must be very difficult. But do try to remember that advice, won't you?"

"I will, Professor," Remus mumbled. "Thanks."

He left the classroom quickly, sure that if he spent a second longer in the company of his Head of House, all the emotion and turmoil he was keeping bottle up would explode. But outside the classroom, he paused, resting sideways onto the stone wall. She'd been as diplomatic as possible, of course, but Professor McGonagall had been clear enough: if Dumbledore found out that Snape knew, there was a good chance he'd be expelled.

He had, then, to keep Snape quiet. They could not give Snape any cause to blurt out his secret to anyone – teacher or otherwise.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Remus straightened up, trying to ignore the relentless pounding in his head. He had already tried to impress this upon James and Sirius, with, it seemed, limited success. He was going to have to try harder. He'd never been any good at controlling his friends, but his whole life was resting on his ability to do it now. Remus rarely showed any anger towards them – it seemed somehow ungrateful to start arguments with the people who he was so grateful had accepted him for who he was. But now Remus was nothing if not angry. This was _his _life; _he _should get to dictate it, not James or Sirius.

His head still pounding, feeling sicker with dread than he ever had before, Remus left the Transfiguration corridor for Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

A/N: So many thanks for all the wonderful reviews – they really make my day.

A word on Lily. In my head The Prince's Tale suggested that she had heard Severus's werewolf theory enough so that 1) she was thoroughly bored of it; and 2) she didn't welcome it. I've interpreted that to mean that she sort of suspects that it might be true, but she'd rather Remus was just left alone; and she definitely doesn't want to let onto Severus that she thinks he might be right.

The next chapter will start to heat up rapidly…and the chapter after that will include the big event everyone's been waiting for…! I'd really love to get the next chapter out by New Year, but in the meantime, Merry Christmas!


	9. Open Hostilities

Disclaimer: Everything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling and I continue to be grateful to her for allowing me to delve into it at will.

A/N: This has turned into a monster chapter. My New Years' resolution is to have shorter chapters, I think. I did, however, promise that this was the final chapter before the excitement kicked off, so I didn't think I could split this up into two. I hope that's OK.

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Open Hostilities**

**13th April 1976, cont.**

"He just came out and _said _it in front of _everyone -_ " Peter was almost dancing up and down on the spot as they stepped into their dormitory, his voice high pitched and his eyes bright with a mixture of excitement and panic.

"We know, Wormtail, we _heard_," said Sirius, sounding very much as though his teeth were gritted. "Shut up, would you?"

He looked to James, as though expecting his best friend to back him up, but James could only find it in himself to mumble, "Yeah, be quiet, would you?" This was enough to cause Peter to fall silent, but James barely noticed as he sat down slowly on his bed, setting his bag down at his feet. There had been a funny roaring in his ears since Potions.

"_Maybe Potter and Black went through my stuff because there's some sort of monstrous secret Potter and Black think I know and they're trying to find a way to keep me quiet." _

"_I'm sure they know that if they keep doing that sort of thing I'll tell their secret to the whole school…"_

Every time James thought about it, he wanted to punch something. Or throw up. Possibly both. He'd thought they'd been helping Remus – but they'd just made it worse, hadn't they? If Snape blabbed now – it was _their _fault. What had they _done?_

Guilt was not normally an emotion James experienced, but it threatened to overwhelm him now. Trying to force it down, he looked to Sirius, hoping his best friend would say something reassuring – come up with a new plan – but anger seemed to be dominating Sirius's thoughts and actions at that moment.

"That _stinking bastard_," Sirius swore, pacing back and forth in the middle of the dormitory. "That _slimy git – _I'll bloody hex him into next week. The middle of bloody Potions class! And it's not _monstrous – "_

"It is."

The voice had come from the door; they all turned to see Remus standing in the doorway. He looked very pale – so pale, in fact, that the next night's full moon could only partially account for it. He swayed slightly where he stood.

"It's _not,"_ said James, finding his voice first. "You're not a _monster_ – "

"For the last time, James, I _am,"_ Remus snapped, and it was so unlike Remus to sound so fierce that James shut up immediately. Remus took several steps forward and shut the door loudly behind him.

"It's all right, mate," said Sirius briskly, never one to be put off by a bit of bad temper. "We're going to get that greasy git and – "

"You're _not_, Sirius; you're going to leave it." Remus's voice wavered slightly, but he fixed Sirius with a glare. Sirius stared – and no wonder, James thought, because they were _all _staring at Remus: _Remus Lupin_, who sometimes made them feel a bit guilty about what they did to other students, but was never _angry _with them. James realised now he had taken it entirely for granted, Remus's sheer reluctance to drive his friends away. But they had finally found a way to push Remus over the edge. The realisation made James nauseous again.

Sirius, however, recovered quickly. "Are you _mental?"_ he asked. "We've got to do something; we've got to – "

"_No_, Sirius; you've done enough." Remus took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "You said you'd lay off him," he said after a pause. His voice was shaking slightly. "You _said – "_

"Actually, we didn't," Sirius interrupted. Remus opened his eyes to glare at him again, but Sirius was unperturbed. "We didn't," he repeated forcefully. "_You _said you wanted us to lay off. But you were only wound up – "

"I wasn't, Padfoot!" Remus exploded. "I meant it, and you didn't listen! As usual you thought you knew better – "

"We _do!"_ Sirius's voice was as loud as Remus's. "If we can just get something on him – " He whirled around to James, his grey eyes wide. "Tell him, Prongs!"

James looked nervously between Sirius and Remus. Their logic had seem so flawless two weeks ago – _mutually assured destruction_, they'd called it. If only they'd managed to find something. But they hadn't – and they'd run out of places to look for it.

"Prongs!" Sirius repeated, his voice insistent. He was still waiting for James to back him up.

"Moony," started James awkwardly, "we were only trying to help – "

"Were you?" Remus rounded on James. His face was pale but his expression fierce. "Because you didn't tell me about following Snape around, did you? You _knew _I wouldn't like it. And this is why! Because it's winding him up and it's driving him to announce things in the middle of the _Potions classroom – _do you know how that _felt?"_

James felt himself flinch; couldn't help it. It was somehow so easy to laugh about it when Remus was telling them off for hexing one student or another – but James had never been ticked off for hurting his friends before, and he was starting to realise it was the worst feeling in the world. Even his mouth seemed to have stopped working as he stared at Remus's tense, white face.

"Look, mate, no one could've guessed from what Snivelly said." Sirius's tone was calmer now; apparently he had finally realised the need to placate their furious friend. But this only seemed to incense Remus further, for he rounded back on Sirius.

"_Today, _maybe. What about tomorrow, when you get into some fight with him and annoy him and he announces the whole thing instead?"

"He won't – "

"Why wouldn't he?" Remus snapped. "Anyone else, there might be an outside chance of them saying quiet out of decency, however…however _disgusted _they were – but you two have single-handedly ensured Snape _wanted _to get us in trouble, found out about me, and now has the perfect motive _not _to stay quiet!"

He was breathing hard. James stared at him, his heart hammering uncomfortably against his ribcage. Their animosity with Snape had always been entirely mutual, but they hadn't thought, had they, about the fact they needed to be careful – had somehow managed to separate their hatred for Snivellus and the fact they had important secrets to hide from him. _Arrogance – _that's what it was: they'd believed themselves immune; that they were too clever to be outwitted by Severus Snape…

_Shit_.

"What do you want us to do?" James asked quietly.

Behind Remus, Sirius's features contorted in disbelief, his feelings clear. _They _were usually the decision-makers. Not Remus or Peter. But James ignored him. They always had been the decision-makers – that was true. But where had it got them? Friendship was more important than power; nothing mattered more to James at that moment than to wipe the self-loathing expression from Remus's face.

Remus had slumped against the door, his eyes closed – relieved, perhaps, that he had finally got through. "I want you to lay off him," he said, his voice quiet. "I want you to leave him alone; I just want you to give me a _chance of_ _finishing_ _Hogwarts_."

He opened his eyes to look at them. Quickly, James nodded, and after a second, Peter followed suit. Sirius didn't move, but Remus didn't seem to notice; jerkily, he returned James's nod, before he walk over to sink down onto his bed, and an uneasy silence settled over the fifth year boys' dormitory.

* * *

It was three hours before Sirius could confront James, but the wait did nothing to quell his anger and frustration. They skipped dinner – none of them felt like eating – but as soon as Remus left for the Hospital Wing, Sirius convinced Peter to go to the kitchens. He got up himself to close the door behind Peter, before he rounded on his best friend.

"What the hell are you playing at?" he demanded.

James looked up from the Quidditch magazine he had been reading. If he was surprised that for the first time ever Sirius had managed to stay angry with him for more than five minutes, he didn't show it. His expression was irritatingly calm.

"Padfoot," he started.

"Lay off Snivellus? What're you – _insane_?"

"We should do as Moony says, Sirius," said James. "It's _his _secret. And we…" He stopped and swallowed. "Look," he started again, "isn't it more important to be Moony's friend than to get one over on Snivellus – "

"What are you on about?" Sirius stared at James, who looked quite taken aback that Sirius was now looking at him like he'd grown an extra head. "This isn't about getting one over on Snivellus – this is _about _being Moony's friend. It's about shutting Snape up – "

"But it's not shutting Snape up, is it?" James interrupted. "Every time we try to shut him up, he gets closer to blabbing in front of everyone – "

"And you think he won't blab once he thinks we're scared of him?" Sirius demanded. James's jaw clenched, and Sirius knew that the insinuation that James was afraid of Snape had got to his best friend. He took advantage of James's silence. "Look, if we lay off him, he'll just be sneaking after us tomorrow, trying to get us in trouble – "

"Then we'll have to use the Cloak."

"What, every time we want to sneak out? Not catching us tomorrow will just wind him up more – d'you know how careful we'll have to be from now on?" Sirius's irritation was building again. "What if he gets so annoyed he announces it in the middle of the Great Hall or something?"

"I don't know, Sirius!" James's frustration exploded out of him very suddenly; he stood up and began to pace, his hand threading frantically in and out of his hair so that it stuck up in all directions. He stopped, turning round to face Sirius. "I still don't believe he'd actually_…_if he he doesn't have proof…" James stopped to massage the space between his eyebrows between his thumb and forefinger. "All I know is that we went behind Moony's back – and it backfired. If Snape blabs – I don't want to be responsible for it." His hand dropped to his side; he looked up at Sirius. "Look," he started again. "We've tried pissing him off; we've tried getting stuff on him – which we couldn't find, by the way. What if Moony's right? What if Snape only cares about all this because of us? Shouldn't we just leave him alone?"

"It's _Snivellus, _Prongs! We can't just _leave him alone." _Sirius took a step forward, as if by closing the physical distance between them he could close the gap between their points of view. "What's got intoyou?" he asked. "This isn't anything _we've_ done – it's all because Snivellus is obsessed with getting us into trouble – " Sirius searched James's face; his best friend tried to remain looking impassive, but a flicker of something flashed in his expression, and Sirius recognised it with a feeling of dread: guilt_. _"What're you _guilty _for?" he demanded. "This isn't – " The reality hit him very suddenly, and he stopped as he stared at his best friend, feeling cold. "Oh Merlin. This is about Evans, isn't it?"

James blinked, at least managing to do a half decent job of looking confused. "What? _No_."

"It is! It's about Evans!" Sirius repeated in disbelief. "She liked you when you lay off Snivellus, so you're trying to do it again."

James's expression was now bordering on incredulous; it was his turn to take a step forward, his hands out in front of him placatingly. "Padfoot, mate – "

"You're choosing a bird over your mates!" Sirius understood it now – understood why James was behaving so bloody _strangely: _he'd never acted like this before, but he'd never liked a girl this much before, Sirius reflected bitterly. It was turning his head.

James had stopped, his jaw clenching. "You should know I would never – "

"Wouldn't you?" Sirius's voice was rising again, his panic and frustration getting the better of him. "If you'd just been able to hold off asking Evans out for half a day _– "_

"Moony didn't even _want _us to do that, you great prat!" James exploded again, his hazel eyes flashing. "Don't you get it? Moony knew Snivellus would never be expelled – we'd just end up winding him up. _He_ gets that we're just making it worse." As if he was unable to look at Sirius any more, he turned abruptly away. His posture was rigid.

"I'll tell you what will make it worse," Sirius snarled. "Letting Snivelly think he's got the upper hand – "

"Well, what do you suggest we do?" James demanded, whirling back around to face him. "We've _tried _everything else. _There is no other option other than to lay off him."_

"Laying off him will just make him think he's got the upper hand!" Sirius snapped.

"Well, then, think of something else, Sirius, because I'm out of ideas!" James's expression was hard. "If you're so clever, _you _dig us out of this mess. But I'm not betraying Moony again."

"It's not _betrayal_," Sirius scoffed. "There's no need to be so melodramatic." But James no longer appeared to be listening; the fight seemed to have drained from him; he had sat back down on his bed, his back to Sirius. Sirius stared at him for several seconds, stunned. James never turned his back on him. "Prongs," he said uneasily, "we'll think of something – "

"_No_, Sirius."

"But we _can't _just – "

"Sirius." James's voice was quiet, but steady. "Drop it or get out. I don't want to fight with you anymore."

_Drop it or get out._

Well, Sirius wasn't about to drop it. He took a step back towards the door.

"I don't know what's got into you," he said, trying to control the anger in his voice. "But you better bloody well snap out of it before tomorrow."

Maybe he expected James to twist around; maybe he expected James to try to stop him. But Sirius didn't give him the opportunity. Yanking the door open, Sirius left the dormitory without looking back.

* * *

"_You dig us out of this mess,"_ Sirius mimicked under his breath. "_If you're so clever. _Well, maybe I bloody well will." Sirius plunged his hands into his pockets, his hair falling over his face as he dipped his head in anger. Where, exactly, did James get off talking to him like that? And why was James – _James, _who hated Snape more than any of them! – suddenly so eager to side with Remus and leave Snape alone?

It couldn't _really _be about Evans, could it? Sirius knew James better than anyone, and James valued his mates. Now that Sirius was calming down a bit, he realised that he was fairly certain James wouldn't pick a girl over his friends, however keen he was on Evans. But James's behaviour _was _curious. Maybe the fact he hadn't yet got Evans to go out with him was diminishing his confidence.

Well, even if James was having a crisis of confidence, Sirius Black was not in the habit of viewing himself as helpless. He had never been faced with a problem he couldn't find some way of solving or wriggling out of. And, really, this shouldn't have been so difficult. When you removed the scary fact that Remus's life was resting on all this, it was really just a matter of finding a way to shut up a cocky Slytherin who had got a bit of dirt on them.

_That _wasn't so very complicated. They'd just got themselves into a right mess about it.

But as Sirius stopped striding quite so quickly to sort through the possibilities in his mind, he realised, with a sinking feeling, that James was right: they seemed to have tried every bloody thing they could. Hadn't he and James _gone _through all the options two weeks ago in the kitchens? No telling the teachers – that was out. Threats were useless – they'd be acted upon only after it was too late.

A very frustrated noise that sounded oddly like a deep growl escaped Sirius's throat and he had the overwhelming urge to punch something. Why couldn't Snape just _bugger off_?

_Shit a Bowtrucker. _

Sirius stopped dead, his heart pounding. They _had _already come up with another solution, hadn't they? Down in the kitchens?

"_If he were to have an unfortunate…accident, let's say…"_

"_Are you suggesting we off Snivellus?"_

James had treated the suggestion lightly – joked that they'd done enough for an Azkaban sentence already. He'd looked very doubtful as Sirius had suggested maiming or memory damage – and perhaps he'd been right to, because it was too risky it would all go wrong; that they'd either be caught or they just _wouldn't get it right_.

No, Sirius thought, his heart beating faster. If they were going to get rid of Snivellus somehow, it couldn't be their fault – even Sirius, who loved risks, could see that was going a bit far. So anything in which they used magic – or, in fact, used _anything _that could be traced back to them – was totally out. That probably made memory alteration difficult: Sirius didn't know any method of tampering with someone's memory other than with a wand or a potion. Maiming, he could see now, was not going to achieve anything other than really pissing Snape off: besides, it would no doubt involve Dark magic, and Sirius was not getting himself embroiled in _that, _even for Remus.

The enticing image of throwing Snape into the middle of the lake and watching him attempt to swim hovered in Sirius's mind, but he shook his head. Death by drowning was an alluring image, but questions would, no doubt, be asked about how precisely Snape had got into the middle of the lake and why he had gone for a swim if he could not even doggy paddle.

Something else stirred in Sirius's mind. It took him a second to recognise it but when he did, he was furious with himself.

_Guilt._

It was not at the thought of Snape dying – frankly, Sirius thought, that seemed like the only bloody solution to their problems. No, the guilt stemmed from the fact that Sirius recognised, with an unpleasant jolt, that he was contemplating murder.

_Shit. _

He was better than this, Sirius thought furiously as he leaned against the wall, gritting his teeth. He wasn't like his family – not like his cousin Bellatrix, who had definitely killed innocent people; not like his parents who, whilst not perhaps doing the deed themselves, would definitely not lose sleep if another Muggle or Muggle-Born was killed.

Only…it was a bit different, wasn't it? Because Snivellus definitely wasn't innocent. And Remus _was_.

But Sirius knew instinctively that he wasn't capable of killing another human being: whatever it was that made Bella and her husband able to raise their wands and extinguish the life in someone's eyes, Sirius didn't possess it. _However_ much he fanaticised about throwing Snape off the cliff into the black waters of the lake below.

There had to be another way. If only Snape would bloody off _himself…_

_Shit. _

He_ would._

Sirius's heart started to race. Snape was bloody _desperate _to get them into trouble – to find out where they went. What if they just…let him? They could not possibly be blamed for Snape's own determination to get them into trouble. If choice would be entirely Snape's: if he wanted to find a werewolf at full moon that was _his _prerogative…

So… so the question, Sirius thought, his heart still beating wildly against his ribs, was not how they were going to keep Snapefrom getting his proof, but how they were going to ensure he got _precisely _what he was after. And a bit more besides.

Sirius remained where he was for a few seconds, thinking. Then he turned around and walked briskly in the opposite direction.

* * *

"I've only got ten minutes," Lily informed Severus as she dropped her bag at her feet and hoisted herself into a seating position on one of the desks. It was nearing eight o'clock: the classroom was lit only by lanterns on the wall. Classrooms would ordinarily be off limits by this time, but Professor Flitwick, a Ravenclaw through and through, had given students permission to practise in his classroom until nine o'clock every evening in light of the fact OWLs and NEWTs were not far off. Lily had had to battle a particularly desperate Hufflepuff to get the room for that evening, and she felt a bit guilty now, knowing she wouldn't be using it for very long. Truth be told, she didn't even really have ten minutes, but she'd promised to meet Severus – and, anyway, she wanted to talk to him.

Severus's sulky expression at this news made his feelings plain. "You said we were going to study." He pushed the door of the Charms classroom closed, and Lily rested her hands either side of her on the desk as she regarded him warily.

"I _said _I'd help you with your Banishing Charms," she corrected him. "And it'll only take ten minutes, honestly."

Severus's expression remained sour.

"Right," he said. "I suppose we'd better get on with it, then."

"Actually, I was hoping we could chat first," said Lily. As Severus's eyes narrowed, she chewed her lip. She knew this wouldn't be an easy conversation – that Severus wouldn't enjoy it. But she _had _to say something.

"About what?" he asked suspiciously.

Lily took a deep breath. _Here goes. _"Our discussion in Potions earlier." Predictably, Severus's lips pursed, and Lily ploughed on quickly before she lost her nerve in the face of Severus's lack of enthusiasm. "Sev, look, about these meetings – I don't want to see you expelled just because James Potter was snooping around – "

It had given Lily the fright of her life, to catch James Potter and Sirius Black skulking about almost on top of the Slytherins' meeting place – and even more so when they had refused to budge. But it had made her more worried – and angry – to hear that the two of them had been through Severus's things, like they were _after _something. Surely – _surely _the chances were too great that they would eventually stumble onto Severus's secret if they kept this up? But equally, if she had understood Severus's words in Potions correctly...

"It's sorted," said Severus, cutting her off. He seemed to have relaxed at her words, suddenly unconcerned. He gave a small smirk, and Lily realised with a little clench in her stomach that she hadn't been wrong in her interpretation earlier in Potions: he _had _been threatening Potter, so he could protect the Slytherins' secret. There hadn't really been much room for misinterpretation, but she'd hoped, vainly, that he wouldn't be nearly so callous.

"Look, Sev," she said quietly. "I _know _what you were trying to do earlier, all right?"

Severus tensed again, his scowl returning. "I don't know what you mean."

"Don't treat me like I'm an idiot, Sev," Lily snapped, rattled. "I _know _what secret you think you're on about – and I've _told_ you to drop it."

The words hung in the air between them. Severus was silent, his gaze fixed on the board. She knew he hated her ticking him off, but she couldn't stand by and say nothing – _she'd _seen how her four House mates had looked in Potions. She didn't know for sure that Severus was right, of course – she suspected that a good portion of the school would have looked as sick as Remus if someone had been accusing them of lycanthropy, werewolf or not. But she _liked_ Remus, for Merlin's sake, and the last thing she wanted was Severus using whatever he _thought _he knew about Remus to get back at James Potter and Sirius Black.

"You told me to get them off my back," said Severus at last, his tone sullen. "I'm _getting _them off my back, aren't I?"

"I didn't mean like that!" Lily burst out. "Not by…" She was agitated; she took a deep breath to calm herself. "Look, it's not even Remus who went through your stuff, is it?"

"Doesn't matter. If announcing Lupin's a werewolf gets Potter and Black off my back – "

"Severus Snape, you've got _no_ proof Remus Lupin's a werewolf!" Lily hissed. "I've _told_ you to leave him alone. It's probably…it's probably not even _true_."

"It _is _true," Severus said. "Did you _see _Potter's face?"

She had, and her stomach clenched again thinking of it now – she had never seen Potter look so horrified. She had never seen _Remus_ look so awful…

"You don't have any _proof, _Sev!" she repeated. "And even if you _did –"_

"I don't _need _proof." Severus's tone was calm, certain. He was utterly convinced. _Of course he is, _Lily realised. _He wouldn't have started threatening James Potter without being sure of himself, would he? _That wasn't Severus's style – Severus wouldn't risk giving Potter something to laugh at.

But what about _Remus?_

"You do," she said defiantly, and Severus blinked. He opened his mouth to argue, but she cut in before he could speak. "You can't just announce it to the whole school without proof. How're you going to explain Dumbledore keeping a werewolf in Hogwarts? Tell everyone he keeps him in his office during the full moon? It makes no _sense, _Sev!" She watched him, heart hammering, hoping it was enough to stop Severus in his tracks – to stop him threatening Remus.

But Severus just stared at her. "_Dumbledore _doesn't know about it," he said. "That's why Potter and his mates are always sneaking out – they're covering it up somehow…" He trailed off, evidently deep in thought about how, precisely, Potter, Black and Pettigrew were covering up a werewolf at Hogwarts. Lily continued to watch him uneasily. She was almost certain that _if _Remus _were _a werewolf, he was only in Hogwarts because Dumbledore had said so, but she didn't like to say this to Severus.

"Sev," she tried again. "That's not really the _point – "_

"It is," Severus interrupted, raising his head to look at her again. "You're right – if I'm going to keep Potter off my back, I need proof – "

"Sev, that's _not _what I meant!" said Lily, panicking. "What I was trying to say is that you can't just speculate about Remus so you can get back at Potter and Black; that's not fair – "

"What if it _wasn't _speculating? What if I got proof, like you said?"

"Are you even listening to me?" Lily demanded. She pushed herself off the desk, coming to stand inches away from Severus. His dark gaze bore into her, but she stood her ground. "It doesn't _matter _if you got proof – which I don't see how you'd possibly get, by the way. Even if you were _absolutely certain_, it's _Remus's _secret. You can't just – "

"Why do you call him by his first name?" Severus interrupted. His facial muscles were twisted, now, into an expression Lily couldn't read. Lily could only stare.

"Because he's my friend," she said slowly.

"But _we're _supposed to be friends," Severus pressed. "And _he's _a werewolf – "

"For the last time, Sev, you don't know that!" Lily shot back. "And anyway, even if he was – "

"Is – "

"Who _cares?"_ Lily burst out. "Don't you get it? He's my friend. I don't _care_ if he's a werewolf, or _whatever_ – I don't see how he could be, anyway_."_ She was blabbering now, and she was irritated with herself for losing control of the conversation. She took a steadying breath and tried to level her tone. "You should just _leave him alone. _Whatever Potter and Black have done – it's _them _you should be concentrating on."

Severus's sneer told her precisely what he thought of that logic. Suddenly annoyed, Lily turned away, picking up her bag from the floor and hitching it over her shoulder.

"Wait, where are you going?" Severus asked quickly. "We haven't done Banishing Charms yet."

"I said I'd meet Amos Diggory," said Lily coolly. "And I'm already late. If you're too thick-headed to listen – "

"Me?" Severus yelped. "You're the one who refuses to see what's right in front of you – "

"Good night, Severus," said Lily, her voice firm. And pursing her lips, she pulled the door open and stormed from the classroom.

* * *

Severus was furious.

Not only had Lily ditched him to go and see Amos Diggory – _that twerp? What was so special about him? – _she'd gone and called Lupin her _friend. _Lupin! He wasn't even human. And she'd had the gall to tick Severus off for using that against Potter and Black, when she knew perfectly well all the things Potter and Black had done to _him _in the past – that they'd been through all _his _private things…

She should've understood, he thought bitterly; he'd made it perfectly clear in Potions earlier – that Potter and Black were trying to find out his secrets because he knew all about Lupin; wasn't it obvious that it was only by threatening to out Lupin that they'd get off his back? Did she _want _them harassing him; finding out all about the late-night meetings he attended in the dungeons? Did she _want _him to be expelled?

Maybe she didn't even _care _about him, Severus thought, crossing his arms as he leaned against a desk in the now empty Charms classroom. Maybe it mattered more to her to protect Potter and his little gang than to protect Severus's secret… Suddenly agitated, he began to pace. It felt more and more like he was losing a grip on his friendship with Lily – more and more like she was slipping away from him. He couldn'tlose her, he thought, panicking. He _couldn't._

Potter and his friends needed to go, Severus realised with a jolt. Once he'd proved he was right about Lupin, once he'd found out where Potter and his friends went when they sneaked out at a full moon, they wouldn't be _around _to mess up Severus's friendship with Lily.

After that he could deal with this Diggory bloke.

But how was he going to _do _it? Severus wondered as he left the classroom and headed towards the dungeons. Lily was right – he needed proof; he needed to understand how the whole thing fitted together before he told the rest of the school. Absences like clockwork were not enough: no one was going to believe there was a werewolf locked up in the school once a month. And what about Potter? _He _was not a werewolf, and yet he too sneaked out at night – including the last full moon! Severus didn't even have a vague idea of what Potter was doing, but it was essential to find out if he was going to get rid of Lupin _and _Potter. Could Severus follow them, perhaps? He'd tried the last full moon, but he'd been waylaid by Filch in the Entrance Hall and by the time Severus had made it outside, Potter, Black and Pettigrew had disappeared.

But maybe this time...

Severus was so lost in his own thoughts, he nearly missed the tall figure slouching casually against the wall adjacent to the Slytherin Common Room, until it spoke.

"Having a good time, Snape?"

The voice of Sirius Black was so unexpected, Severus jumped, his shoulders hunching as he whipped around from the damp, stone wall that was the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. His hand dived into his pocket, but it was only when he pulled out his wand that he realised Black did not have his own out.

"Where's your friend Lupin?" Severus sneered, determined to make up for the shock Black had given him. "That time of the month, is it?"

Black shrugged, obviously bored. But he leaned against the wall opposite Severus, his arms folded. He had an annoying way of looking upperclass even when he seemed indifferent to everything around him. Or perhaps he maintained an upperclass aura _because _he looked so indifferent all the time. Either way, it was incessantly irritating. Even his _hair _fell across his face elegantly.

"I'm going to find out where he goes, Black, mark my words," he spat.

"It's dead easy if you only used some brains, Snape." Black's eyes glittered. Severus was about to open his mouth to say something rude, when he realised what Black had said. He was up to something, Severus thought, eying the Gryffindor in front of him suspiciously.

Black only raised an eyebrow, as though amused. "Must be sickening for you, Snivellus, knowing James and I worked it out in fifteen months, and here _you _are, five years in, still at a loss to explain where Remus goes every month."

"So you _admit_ it's every month your filthy friend disappears?" Severus did not know why he had asked the question; Black was unlikely to come out and say it outright and Severus already knew for himself that Remus Lupin's disappearances were like clockwork. It suggested everything; it _proved _nothing.

"All right, Snivellus." Black straightened up, his face turning hard. "You've dropped enough hints. We _know _you know. But you don't have any proof. And that puts you in a sticky situation, doesn't it? Because James reckons he knows you, and he's said all along you wouldn't say a word until you've confirmed it."

"What does _Potter _know?" Severus snarled, but it almost made him sick how well Potter seemed to have worked him out. Maybe he'd tell the whole school about Lupin just to see the look on Potter's face – maybe that would provoke him into doing something expulsion-worthy...

"Well, he knows where Remus goes, for starters," said Black idly.

"And where's that?" Severus sneered.

Black smirked. "How stupid do you think I am, Snivelly? If I _hand _you the proof, you're going to go running off to tell everyone." Black arched his eyebrows again. "Frankly, though, I'm surprised you haven't worked it out. It's not a bloody mystery. Lupin comes to Hogwarts. Something else comes to Hogwarts in the same year. It's not a flipping coincidence, is it?"

Despite his suspicion that this was some sort of trick, Severus's mind worked furiously. What else had come to Hogwarts the year they had started? All the other students in their year, certainly – but _they _had nothing to do with it. There was a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher – but there always was, every year. What _else? _What had Dumbledore mentioned in that very first Welcome Feast speech? Severus had not been listening properly – too distressed by the fact that Lily had been placed in a different House – but…

"The Whomping Willow," he breathed, forgetting, for a moment, that it was Sirius Black to whom he was speaking. But he remembered quickly, and glared at the boy in front of him, who was suddenly looking decidedly smug. "Do you take me for some sort of idiot, Black? You can't conceal a werewolf in a _tree_."

"Obviously." Black smirked. "Not your typical Whomping Willow, though, is it?"

It…wasn't? Severus did not love Herbology; he was only really interested in it for the sake of the potions ingredients he could get from plants, and Whomping Willows produced virtually nothing useful. He racked his brains, trying to think of some way in which that tree was different, or special…

"For Agrippa's sake, you idiot; there's a flipping _knot _on the side of the tree; haven't you ever noticed?" Black suddenly snapped.

Severus's eyes narrowed. He was beginning to suspect he was being had; _he _certainly did not remember any knot on the side of the tree.

"Very amusing, Black," he said. "And I suppose you'd have me fiddling about with this knot, would you, while I get torn to bits by that bloody tree?"

Black stared at him, barely able to conceal his contempt. "If you've got any sense, _Snivellus_, you use a long stick." He rolled his eyes. "Bloody hell, you've got even fewer brains than we gave you credit for."

Severus had had enough. Black was evidently trying to goad him into something that would make him, Severus, look like a fool – undoubtedly while Black and Potter cackled at the sidelines.

"Fuck off, Black," he spat. "I'd have to be really thick to believe anything that comes out of your mouth."

He turned away, preparing to mutter the password to the Common Room in as low a voice as possible, so that Black would not hear. But Black hadn't quite finished.

"You don't believe me?" he asked. He seemed surprised; almost insulted.

"I think you're a filthy liar, Black, trying to humiliate me to cover up your disgusting friend and the reason you're always sneaking out at night."

Anger flashed across Black's face. "I'm no liar, Snape," he growled. "See for yourself. Remus'll be heading down to the Willow about seven tomorrow with Madam Pomfrey. You can watch them do it. _You'll see_."

And before Severus could fathom what, precisely, this meant, Sirius Black had turned and stalked away, muttering under his breath to himself.

* * *

Sirius returned to the dormitory late. He was not surprised, however, to see James was still up waiting for him.

His best friend appeared to be reading the same Quidditch magazine he had been reading earlier, but he abandoned it as Sirius came in. Sirius went straight to his own bed, pulling off his tie and throwing it on the floor, as James swung his legs off the bed and came over. His hair was even messier than usual, as though he'd spent a long time with his hands in it. He looked tired but no less determined as he leaned against one of the posts of Sirius's bed.

"All right?" he murmured. He sounded oddly anguished, Sirius noticed. It _did _feel weird: _he _didn't really know how to act after an argument, either. They'd never done it before. But he wasn't still angry with James; that much he knew. What the point? James hadn't been able to find an answer to their problems; Sirius had found one. No need to keep fighting about it.

"You're a giant prat," said Sirius bluntly – his voice low, so as not to wake Peter, who was snoring softly.

James's lips twitched. "You're hardly much better yourself."

Sirius might have taken offence at that – he didn't really consider he'd done much wrong – but he _had _blown up at his best friend, he supposed, and it was such a relief to see James acting more normally that Sirius just smirked in return and shrugged it off.

"Guess we'll just be avoiding Snivellus as we sneak out tomorrow, then?" said James, though his eyes surveyed Sirius brightly, as though hoping Sirius had come up with something else in all the time he'd been gone.

"Guess so," Sirius agreed.

It was only later, when James had gone to bed, and Sirius had showered and changed and blown out the last of the lanterns, that he considered why he hadn't just told James his plan.

James would have been able to contribute, Sirius thought: his best friend seemed to know what made Snape tick; he'd be able to work out a way to make Snape take the bait. Snivellus had certainly been a bit more suspicious than Sirius had given him credit for: he'd hoped the Slytherin would take the hint and run with it, but Sirius had had to promise him the sighting of Pomfrey and Remus the following evening. James would have known how to seal the deal. But something had held Sirius back from telling him.

James, he thought moodily, staring up into the darkness of his canopy, did not _deserve _to take the credit for this. Sirius alone had been sharp enough to work out that he could use Snape's curiosity against him, whilst James had instead abandoned Sirius to side with Remus.

Something twisted in Sirius's gut and he closed his eyes and rolled over onto his side. He knew, deep down, that that was not the real reason he had not told James.

Sirius had a vaguely unpleasant feeling that James was not going to like it very much.

It was only because, Sirius thought, as he rested his head against the pillow, of bloody _Remus _telling them to lay off Snape. James would probably feel like he was betraying Remus's trust again, or something equally stupid. Remus – something lurched horribly again in Sirius's stomach, and he rolled onto his back again – _definitely _wouldn't like it. He had never actually voiced his greatest fear, but Sirius had been able to see it in his face the first time they'd spent the full moon with him. They'd arrived before the transformation, grinning and excited – enthusiasm that was rapidly wiped away as Remus started to shudder and gasp.

"_Transform!"_ he'd rasped, on his knees, a wild look in his eyes they'd never seen before.

Peter had obeyed immediately; Sirius had followed, hesitantly, a few seconds later, but James had remained in his human form, starting forwards.

"Moony, is there anything – "

"_Transform!"_ Remus had all but screeched. "I'll-kill-you-otherwise!" He had taken a great shuddering breath as he'd fallen forwards; hair was beginning to sprout up all over; and Sirius, who had already bloody _understood_, seized James's trousers in his teeth and yanked backwards. James had got the message; he'd transformed, just as Remus's face had started to twist and change…

They hadn't ever actually talked about it. But they'd all known, then, that Remus's biggest fear in the world was killing someone while he was out of control.

Sirius closed his eyes again; took a deep breath. Remus was not actually going to be all right with the fact he'd mauled Snape to death, was he? And that meant that James, who seemed keen to acquiesce to Remus these days, would not be, either.

But it wasn't his bloody _fault_, was it? Sirius thought furiously, heaving himself up to rearrange his pillows before he threw himself back down onto them, his arms folded tightly across his chest. If _Snivellus _decided to go sneaking down by the Willow – he _knew _there was a bloody werewolf!

Something lurched again in Sirius's stomach, and he thought he might be sick. _Shit_. All he'd thought about was how to shut Snivellus up – taken the only method he knew that didn't count as murder because Snape would walk into it voluntarily. He'd half-forgotten what it would mean for Remus.

What _would _it mean for Remus? he wondered suddenly, but he shoved the thought away angrily: Snape deserved this, and it was the _only _option for keeping the greasy git quiet! What was the alternative? Have Snape blab Remus's secret to the whole school? His life would be in ruins. But…but if Snape brought it on himself – if he was stupid enough to go wandering around trying to find a werewolf – no one would blame Remus. Dumbledore would not blame Remus, that was for sure, and Dumbledore would do everything he could to keep it hushed up: Remus had told them before that not even the school governors knew about him…

_Remus _would blame Remus. But since when had Remus ever known what was good for him?

Still, there was still an uncomfortable knot in Sirius's stomach as he contemplated telling James. It would take too long for James to understand, he knew – James would have to agree with his logic once it was all in motion, but he might try to find some way of stopping it if Sirius told him before tomorrow night, and then they'd _still _be in this stupid mess.

Perhaps he was still worried; maybe he was not used to acting without his best friend on side. But Sirius found himself throwing off the covers and easing himself out of bed, padding over to where James's hangings were drawn.

James was sleeping on his back; one arm thrown across his body, the other beside his head, his hand threaded through his hair. He looked strangely serious when he was asleep; when all of the humour had dropped out of his facial muscles. Sirius reached over and gently shook his shoulder.

"_Prongs."_

James wasn't an especially heavy sleeper, but he was always groggy when he first woke up and thus, even though Sirius only had to shake him once, his eyes barely cracked open.

"Padfoo'?" he slurred. "Whasamatter?"

"Really quickly," Sirius whispered, his heart hammering. "You definitely do want to shut Snape up, right?"

James blinked groggily, as though he was having a hard time getting his head around what Sirius was saying. "Yeah, course," he mumbled.

"Whatever it takes?" Sirius pressed, urgently.

James closed his eyes, evidently willing himself to be back asleep. "_Obviously_," he mumbled, turning onto his side and pressing his face into the pillow. "Now go t'sleep."

His thundering heart slowing, Sirius stepped back, letting James's hangings fall closed.

_You're doing the right thing_, he chided himself, getting back into bed. _We need to shut Snape up. Whatever it takes_.

He still wouldn't tell James until it was all in motion, though, Sirius didn't think. Whatever James said when he was half-asleep, and however he might later be brought round to Sirius's way of thinking, he might have too many reservations to deal with tomorrow. And he didn't _need _to know until the last minute. All Sirius had to do tomorrow was make sure he tracked Snape down at seven o'clock and that the little git saw Madam Pomfrey and Remus. It would not be difficult; dinner was shortly beforehand, and James had Quidditch practice, so Sirius would be alone, so long as he could shrug off Peter easily enough (if he wasn't letting James in on it, he _definitely _wasn't going to tell Peter).

Perhaps Snape would not take the bait at all – then Sirius would have to hope James was right that Snape would not blab without solid proof. But Sirius thought he would. Snape was positively desperate to find out where Remus went.

He might need a little encouragement, thought Sirius, as he closed his eyes to go to sleep, but he was willing to bet all his gold in Gringotts that Snape wouldn't be able to resist following Remus under the Whomping Willow.

* * *

**14****th**** April 1976 **

Something was wrong.

It was difficult to know what, precisely, but Sirius was oddly quiet all day. Sure – he laughed at James's jokes, he passed notes in Herbology, they had a good laugh when he caused Amos Diggory (who, it was rumoured, had been seen studying with Lily Evans the night before) to grow a particularly fine set of tentacles – but in spite of all this, he seemed distracted all day, his attention somewhere else, brooding on _something _whenever James tried to talk to him.

"_Padfoot,"_ James said for the third time, finally grinding to a halt just outside the Hospital Wing after their last class had finished.

"Huh?" Sirius turned his head but failed to stop, and crashed straight in Peter. "Watch it, Wormtail – what were you saying, Prongs?"

"Everything all right?" James asked, eying Sirius rather strangely.

"Yeah." Sirius rubbed his shoulder and glared at Peter as if it were somehow his fault that Sirius hadn't been paying attention to where he was going. "Why?"

"Because you've been acting like you're thinking about something else all day," Peter piped up, and then looked rather surprised at his own daring. James shot him a grateful look.

"You just seem…distracted," he said. "Is this about Moony?"

"Moony?" said Sirius – too quickly. "Why would it be about Moony?"

"Because for the first time ever Moony had a fit all over us yesterday," said James slowly, "and you didn't exactly see eye to eye with him."

"Oh yeah." Sirius blinked, and then shrugged. "That. I'd forgotten about it, frankly."

James surveyed him for several moments. He believed Sirius – evidently he wasn't angry with Remus, which is what James had really wanted to establish before they set foot in the Hospital Wing to see Remus ahead of the full moon that night. But Sirius was still acting weirder than James had ever seen him, and James's hand remained hovering over the handle of the door to the ward.

"So what is it?"

"What?" Sirius hadn't been listened again, but he scowled as he looked up. "Nothing. C'mon, let's hurry up."

And before James could stop him, Sirius had pushed past them both to go into the Hospital Wing, leaving James and Peter to trail behind.

Remus was in the bed at the end: the curtains may have been drawn around the bed, but he was always in the same one, by the window. James often wondered about that – whether Remus really wanted to watch as the sun set and darkness crept in, bringing the suggestion of the full moon which would rise later that night. But he pushed this thought to one side now, as Sirius ripped open the curtain and they were confronted with their friend on the brink of another transformation.

Remus did not, suffice to say, look well. His face was drawn, the dark purple circles around his eyes standing out like he'd been in a bad fight. His eyes were closed, but they shot open as they filed in, revealing bloodshot eyeballs.

"Hi Moony," said James cheerfully, pulling the curtain shut behind them and casting the _Muffliato _charm. "How're you feeling?"

"Awful," Remus croaked. His arms shook as he put his weight on them to push himself into a sitting position. Sirius and Peter sat down on his left; James took the nearest seat. His eyes landed on Sirius again, who was staring at the curtain, but didn't really seem to be seeing it. James's eyes shifted to Sirius's right and met Peter's uneasy gaze. For a moment nobody said anything. Then:

"I'm really sorry about last night," Remus blurted out. His gaze was pleading as it landed on James, and the guilt from the night before stirred in James's gut. He should've seen this coming, really. If Remus had spent years valuing his friends too much to start confrontations with them, the chances of him retaining his anger overnight were fairly minimal.

"It's all right," James said. "Honestly – we've forgotten about it already, haven't we, Padfoot? Padfoot?"

But Sirius wasn't listening again. Remus's expression turned worried.

"I didn't mean it," he pressed on. "It was only that Snape – "

"No, you were right," James said, cutting him off. His gaze slid again, frustrated, to Sirius. "Snape was being a slimy git, but we _did _make it worse, and Padfoot and I are going to leave him alone."

Sirius still said nothing. Remus couldn't fail to notice that Sirius hadn't responded; he tore his gaze, which was now downright concerned, from James to Sirius. James suppressed the urge to get up and punch Sirius in the face. Couldn't he _see _how upset Remus was? Didn't he _get _it: that Remus was in the right, but he was too scared of losing his friends to stick to his guns?

"Sirius?" Remus's voice was quiet, and it didn't escape James's notice that Remus hadn't used Sirius's nickname.

"_What?_" said Sirius, finally looking at the three of them. "Godric, Moony, it's only _Snivellus – _don't worry about it. We'll sort it out."

"What do you mean?" asked Remus slowly, but Sirius was no longer interested again, so James jumped in.

"It's all right," he said. "We were going to go into the Forest, right? So – "

"Maybe that's not such a good idea," said Remus. His gaze flickered to Sirius uneasily.

"It _is; _it'll be fine," James insisted. "Look, Padfoot and Wormtail can go early – they can go as soon as Pomfrey's left you at the Willow, yeah? Snape'll never expect them to go so early. I've got Quidditch practice anyway, so I'll meet you all in the Forest later, and I'll use the Cloak to sneak out. All right?"

Remus still looked doubtful, and he opened his mouth, but James got there first.

"Look. What was the point in us becoming Animagi if you were just going to be kept shut up in the Shack?"

"Sshh," said Remus – quite unnecessarily, since there was a Silencing Charm around them – but James could tell he was weakening.

"C'mon," he pressed. "Padfoot and Wormtail could even go about six and be there waiting for you if you want – "

"Wait, what?" Sirius turned around, blinking as though he'd only just latched onto the fact a conversation was taking place. "No. I'm busy until just after seven."

"Busy," James repeated in disbelief. "Doing what?"

Sirius just raised his eyebrows. James stared at him, bemused, because Sirius never really bothered with all the girls who tried to catch his eye in class or at mealtimes, but eventually he turned his gaze back to Remus and Peter.

"Just after seven," he repeated. "Sirius'll meet you in the bush right by the Willow, Pete – the one we hid in from Pomfrey last time, yeah?"

"But it's raining."

Grimacing, they all turned their heads to look at the darkening sky outside. Rain was hitting the windows hard, as it had been all day. They'd been drenched to and from Herbology.

"So what?" said James. "We'll get wet in the Forest anyway – who cares?"

"But while I'm waiting – "

"Merlin, Wormtail, are you a wizard or not?" James groaned. "Bush by the Willow just after seven. Right, Padfoot? _Padfoot?"_

Sirius was busy staring out of the window. At James's insistent tone, he looked around. "Mmm, yeah, sure. Whatever."

It was hardly the confident and enthusiastic response James had been expecting for their first proper full moon outing, but it would have to do. James stared silently at his best friend for several long seconds, wondering again what on earth had got into him.

"What time's Quidditch practice, Prongs?" Peter asked, shooting another worried glance in Sirius's direction.

James checked his watch. _Shit_. Practice was due to start in ten minutes.

"Better go," he said. "See you all later, yeah?"

Sirius grunted in response; Peter nodded enthusiastically; but it was Remus's smile as he raised his hand in farewell that stuck with James. _Sirius will just have to get over whatever funk he's in, _thought James as he gathered up his bag and robes. _It's for Remus's sake we've done all this – we can't let him down now. _

Shooting Sirius one last glance, James dashed from the Hospital Wing, having run out of time to figure out what the hell was up with his best mate.

* * *

Seven o'clock could not come fast enough for Severus.

In spite of his unwillingness to believe Black, his gut feeling that Black was somehow leading him on, Severus had come to the conclusion shortly after the Gryffindor had stalked away from the Slytherin Common Room the previous night that he had absolutely nothing to lose by doing as Black said, and watching out for Lupin and the school nurse. It was not the same as getting ripped to shreds by the Whomping Willow purely on Black's say-so: Severus could watch from a perfectly safe distance, even in the castle, and see if Black was telling the truth. He was in no danger of being humiliated, just by _watching._

He could decide what to do after that.

Still, his uneasiness and impatience led Severus, after his final class of the day, to divert to the Hospital Wing. He arrived just in time to see Potter, Black and Pettigrew slip inside, and when Severus cracked the door open himself, he saw the three of them disappearing behind the curtain around the bed at the end.

So_, _Severus thought, the school nurse was in on it after all! He had to admit he had not seen that coming – but perhaps he should have done, because he knew perfectly well from his extensive research that werewolves denied humans during the full moons frequently needed patching up afterwards.

But _how _had they managed to get Madam Pomfrey to stay quiet?

_Tonight, _Severus thought as he closed the Hospital Wing door behind him. Tonight he'd get all his answers.

He'd planned to find a spot close to the Whomping Willow in order to ensure he didn't miss anything, but as it happened he was waylaid at dinner by Regulus Black, who wanted help with his Potions homework, and he emerged from the Great Hall just in time to see two people hurry past him, through the Entrance Hall and out of the front door into the rain that had been pouring all day.

Madam Pomfrey and Remus Lupin.

Severus's eyes narrowed as he took in Lupin's slightly bent-over form from behind just before the boy disappeared out of the door and into the grounds. Severus would never be able to follow them without detection – and if Black was looking out for him near the Willow, he could easily be ambushed. And so instead Severus hurried along the corridor, towards the stairs that would take him down to the dungeons. But he didn't go further than the first window. He stopped at it, leaning his head out so he could see.

Remus Lupin – looking worse than Severus had ever seen him – was now bent almost double, and leaning heavily on Madam Pomfrey as they hurried down the path leading to Hogsmeade.

Or, rather, the Whomping Willow.

Severus watched, his heart racing, as they scurried down the path away from the castle, but halfway down – _ages _from the Whomping Willow – they suddenly disappeared.

_Disappeared?_

A Disillusionment charm, he realised with a groan. Of course – they wouldn't want to risk Lupin being seen going to wherever he was going. If it had been a clear evening, he might have been able to see the distortion in the air as they moved – the distortion that the Disillusionment charm created – but there was no chance in this weather. To think he'd been thwarted by a Disillusionment charm! Severus leaned further out of the window, trying to see anything – maybe if he watched the Whomping Willow closely…

His hopes were not in vain. Barely two minutes had past before the Whomping Willow, which had been thrashing about in the half-light, froze stock-still. Seconds later Madam Pomfrey had reappeared and was hurrying away from the tree as it started to move again.

_But where was Lupin?_

_Disappeared? Disapparated? _But even as Snape thought it, he knew he had to be wrong. You couldn't Apparate _or _Disapparate on Hogwarts grounds, human or werewolf. Perhaps he was still under the Disillusionment charm – but then what was the purpose of the Whomping Willow?

_How had they made it freeze?_

"The knot," a voice came from behind Severus, as though his thoughts had been read. Severus whipped around, to see the unpleasantly familiar figure of Sirius Black. Inwardly, he swore. Black must have been looking out for him. "I told you," said Black impatiently. "You press the knot with a long stick. That's what happens when you do."

"_Right_," Severus drawled. "You press a knot on the tree and you disappear."

Black rolled his eyes. "Obviously not. The knot freezes the tree, that's all. Gives you an opportunity to do what Lupin's done."

Severus was too proud to ask, precisely, what that was.

"There's a tunnel," Black offered. "Base of the Willow. That's how Remus gets to where he needs to go."

This made no sense at all. For starters, _Severus _had never heard of a tunnel under the Whomping Willow. And why on earth would Black tell _him_ about it?

And yet…Lupin _had _just disappeared, and so if Severus wanted to follow him, all he had to do was press that knot…

"Too cowardly to try it, Snivellus?" Black sneered.

Normally, any accusations that Severus was a coward would have outraged him. But he knew Black was trying to goad him, and he was not going to take it very seriously. Severus was far more concerned about how he could try out this tree for himself without falling into whatever trap Black and Potter were laying out for him. For the full moon was not for another month, and Severus needed the proof, now – needed it to get Lily on his side, to get rid of Potter once and for all…

Examining Black from under lowered lashes, Severus considered. He had enough faith in his own duelling abilities that, even if this were some plan of Black and Potter's to ambush him, he was confident that he could hold his own. He'd done so before – and he now had a few more hexes and curses up his sleeve. With any luck, he'd have proof of Lupin's whereabouts and also get Black and Potter into trouble for being out of bounds.

But he could see Black watching him, his pale grey eyes glittering. He _wanted _Severus to take the bait. And the rationalist in Severus told him that that must be very bad news indeed.

"Nice try, Black," he said. "But I'm not going to fall for whatever idiotic trap you've laid for me."

It wasn't the best of parting shots, but he drew himself up and stalked away, the very epitome of a boy who was certainly not going to take the bait.

But as soon as he'd rounded the corner, he stopped in the Entrance Hall, his heart hammering. It needed to be tonight. He didn't know where the tunnel under the Whomping Willow would lead – if indeed there was even a tunnel! – but when he got out the other end, it might not be immediately obvious where Lupin was being kept. He might have to follow his instinct, listen out for scratching and howling and find whatever place Lupin was kept in confinement. He couldn't do that if it wasn't a full moon.

Severus gritted his teeth, irritated, wondering what to do.

At that moment, however, the front doors burst open and seven sodden figures – dressed head to foot in scarlet and carrying their broomsticks, which trailed water onto the marble floor behind them – traipsed into the Entrance Hall. James Potter – his hair so wet it was plastered, for once, to his head – was laughing with another member of the team as he brought up the rear. His grin fell abruptly as he saw Severus, his face twisting quickly into an expression of deep dislike. It was not that, however, that Severus was focused on. No, it was the flicker of doubt and fear in Potter's face that could only come from his concern that Severus was about to open his mouth about his disgusting furry friend.

That was enough to make up Severus's mind.

As the Gryffindor Quidditch team continued through the Hall and up the marble staircase, Severus's mind worked furiously. By the time they'd got up to the Gryffindor Tower, and Potter had showered and dressed, it had to be at least half an hour before Potter could make it down to the Whomping Willow. Whatever he and Black had planned, they must have been banking on him waiting for a while.

Well, thought Severus, his lip curling. He would show them – _he _would go down there first, and _he _would be the one lying in wait to ambush them, before going to find Lupin…

He needed a cloak, of course, he thought, looking out at the rain through the doorway the Gryffindors had left open. But he'd still have plenty of time to get to the Slytherin dorms and back out to the Whomping Willow – probably before Potter had even finished showering.

Heart hammering in excitement, Severus set out at a run for the Slytherin Common Room.

And Sirius, hovering behind a suit of armour, allowed himself a smirk.

* * *

**A/N:** Once again, apologies for the long chapter. Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed/favourited/followed this story so far – it really motivates me to keep writing, and you've all been really kind. A few thank yous and replies, since it's the end of the year:

ArwenFairTinuviel – nearly always my first reviewer for each chapter, and always so kind. Thank you for being a brilliant inspiration and motivator this year.

Goldenlioness4 – thank you as always for your critique, which always gets me to think about things a bit differently. No, no Marauders Map yet (they thought of it in an earlier chapter, but haven't got around to creating it!) – but it will make an appearance in the not too distant future. Definitely true about my portrayal of Lily and James, but it comes from Sirius's response of, 'Nah, she didn't' in OotP. Don't worry, there will be a foundation for SWM!

Cwam – Hi there, and thanks for reading! You're possibly right about the nicknames, although at this stage I figure they're so pleased with themselves and pretty damned arrogant that they don't believe anyone could work it out (I mean, all in all it's quite unbelievable, isn't it?). But again, we'll see that change a bit too, so stay tuned! :)

Dontgiveahoot – I am positive you are absolutely right that nothing can save them at this point. Thanks for reviewing!

And thank you to those who have reviewed multiple times (in addition to the above – D, witheringtrees, NatheRiver) and those who have dropped reviews here and there (still appreciated – superpony55, Chp2000, WolfPrince Kouga, Pukkolai, My Secret Addiction, Osced, Mikey, Iara, Lara, nowandlaters, Merpel, BlueCottonCat, MewWolf5, MSupernatural, UNHOLY MOTHERFUC and Guests). Sorry if I've missed anyone – I read every single review and really appreciate each one.

Have a great new year, and look out for the next chapter sometime next week…!


	10. The Fine Line Between Murder and Suicide

Disclaimer: Everything you recognise of course belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling and not to me.

A/N: I've tinkered and tinkered with this, so worried that people aren't going to like it, but I think the time has come to just get it over with. I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

**Chapter Nine: The Fine Line Between Murder and Suicide**

**14****th**** April 1976 cont.**

James was still showering when Sirius stepped into the dorm; he could hear the water running in the bathroom. Peter was nowhere to be seen. He chucked his robes onto the bed and went straight to the window. Frankly, Sirius would have preferred to stay downstairs, perhaps close to the Whomping Willow to see what was going on, but he knew James would come straight up to the dorm. Watching from the window would have to do.

The rain was still coming down outside, running in rivers down the windows and falling in buckets beyond the castle walls. It was difficult to see the Willow. Sirius unlocked the window and pushed it open, leaning out. He could…yes, he could just make out the angry tree, thrashing its branches madly in the pouring rain. No sign of Snape, then. But he couldn't be long, could he? For the first time since he'd seen Snape downstairs, Sirius felt a prickle of doubt. He'd been so sure Snape would take the bait – he'd run off in the direction of the Slytherin Common Room, but… _shit, _what if he'd gone to tell his slimy Slytherin friends?

"What're you still doing here?"

Sirius jumped so suddenly his head hit the top of the window frame. Swearing under his breath, he turned to see James had finished his shower; Sirius's best friend had paused in the doorway of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. He looked vaguely amused – probably wondering what could have Sirius half-leaning out of the window on such a foul night.

"What do you mean?" Sirius muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

"You were supposed to meet Pete downstairs, remember? By the Willow?" James said slowly. "I'm going to meet you in the Forest?"

Bloody hell, Sirius had forgotten they were supposed to be exploring the Forest. Well, he thought as he turned back to the window, it was no good any of them going yet – not before Remus had transformed; not before Snape had gone after him. In fact… Sirius frowned. He'd been so concerned with making sure Snape listened to him that he hadn't actually thought about what they should do once the Slytherin entered the tunnel. Would it be best if they did not meet Remus at all that night? If they didn't want to be implicated, it had to be better for them to remain out of the way, didn't it? They probably, at the very least, should not take Remus out to the Forest – that was sure to raise questions that would only make Remus appear the guilty party.

"I don't reckon we should go to the Forest," Sirius announced, leaning forward again to keep his eyes trained on the tree swinging its branches below. There was still no sign of Snape. Sirius had been _sure _he'd convinced the Slytherin – where _was _he?

"Why not?"

There was movement behind him – James was probably dressing – but Sirius kept his eyes on the Whomping Willow.

"Dunno," said Sirius vaguely. _Where was Snape? _"Just don't feel like it; that's all." He would not tell James until the whole plan was definitely in motion; once Snape was in the tunnel, Sirius could talk some sense into James, but until then there was a good chance James would simply try to ambush Snape in the Entrance Hall or something similar.

"You don't feel like it." James sounded amused again – used, probably, to Sirius's whims and fancies. "And what _do _you feel like, Padfoot?"

"Dunno," said Sirius again.

"Well, I reckon we should do it. It'll be fun." The rustling stopped and Sirius chanced a glance over his shoulder. James was fully dressed, grinning as he threw the towel over the stand. "C'mon. You'll probably have to transform as soon as you're in the tunnel, now, but that doesn't really matter. We can go down to the grounds together." He bent down under his bed and pulled out his Invisibility Cloak. At Sirius's questioning look, he shrugged. "I reckon we should probably use this. I saw Snape in the Entrance Hall when I was coming up. Don't want him to catch us."

At the mention of Snape, Sirius turned quickly back to the window. Just in time, he saw a figure – barely visible through the rain – next to the Willow. He didn't see a stick, but the tree suddenly froze and the figure moved forward and disappeared.

It could only be Snape.

Sirius felt a rush of excitement; he whipped around to face James, who had one eyebrow arched, his expression now bordering on impatience.

"Actually," said Sirius, his voice casual although it was a massive struggle, "I don't think we need to worry about Snape."

James stared at him, but after a few seconds, the corners of his mouth lifted into a grin. "Took care of old Snivelly, did you? Excellent." He didn't ask what Sirius had done – perhaps he was afraid it was precisely what Remus had asked them not to do. Instead he pushed his Invisibility Cloak under his bed again, before straightening up. "Let's go, then."

Now was too soon, Sirius was certain of it. They'd run into Snape – and they didn't want that to happen before he saw Remus. He shook his head.

"I reckon we should wait."

"What? No. You know what Moony's like by himself." James sat down on his bed and pulled his shoes on. "Let's get going."

"No, we should definitely wait. Snivellus…" Sirius paused delicately. "Well, he might not be _completely _dealt with yet."

James stared at him again, unable to conceal his impatience again. "What do you mean? You've either dealt with him or you haven't. Haven't you?" Uncertainty crept into his tone, the first sign that he was aware that Sirius must have done something more than just lock Snape in a cupboard.

Sirius's response was to cross the room and close the door. James's eyebrows shot up. Sirius stayed silent for a few seconds, enjoying the anticipation. James would be annoyed, he knew, that he had been left out of it, but he'd get over it quickly: James wasn't the type to bear a grudge. And now Snape was already in the tunnel, it would be easy to keep him here to explain it all.

"I told Snape how to get past the Willow," he said.

James stared at him, looking oddly like a startled deer for a moment, before he grinned, pushed himself off his bed and stepped forward to punch Sirius in the arm.

"Good one, mate," he said with a small laugh. "But what did you really do? String him up by his underpants?"

It was Sirius's turn to stare – whatever reaction he had expected from James, this was not it. "No," he said slowly. "I told him how to get past the Willow – that there was a knot in the middle of the tree and all he had to do was use a stick to press it in order to follow Moony."

James looked at him curiously, like he was still expecting Sirius to laugh and say, 'Gotcha!' but Sirius just stared back, perplexed at his best friend's apparent confusion_. _

"You didn't really, did you?" James said eventually. His voice betrayed his disbelief. Caught off guard – he'd expected questions, absolutely, but not the expression that was currently on James's face – Sirius suddenly felt defensive.

"Of course I did!" he burst out. "He _knows, _Prongs – and we can'tjust ignore it! We _talked _about offing him – "

"Not seriously!" James still hadn't moved, though the muscles in his jaw were working up and down furiously. Sirius frowned. Sure, James had been joking _at the time_, but he had to realise, surely, that this was the only way to shut Snape up for good? "What're you hoping for?" James continued, his voice still full of disbelief. "That he'll actually listen to you and – "

"He _has _listened to me," said Sirius. "He just disappeared into the tunnel."

James was very still for a few seconds, as if he couldn't quite understand what Sirius was telling him, before he moved quickly over to the window. Sirius followed him. But even through the pouring rain and the darkness that was setting in it was evident that the Willow had already started moving again.

"He went," said Sirius. "I saw him."

He did not like how pale James had gone; he was still standing, unmoving, staring out of the window, as if he couldn't tear his eyes from the Willow.

"It's all right," Sirius said. "We won't get blamed. He's the one idiotic enough to go after a werewolf. I've got it all worked out."

His words seemed to jerk James out of his reverie; he turned and strode across the room to the door.

"Wait, where are you going?" Sirius asked quickly. This was what he had been afraid of – that James wouldn't understand straight away. "We don't want to go yet – Snivelly's bound to report us if he catches us – "

"You idiot!" James's tone was so harsh Sirius froze. "He won't be _able _to report us if someone doesn't stop him."

Sirius said nothing. It was James's turn for his mouth to drop open as he stopped, hand on the doorknob.

"You can't be serious," he said. "Padfoot, he'll _die._"

"Yeah," said Sirius slowly. "That's sort of the idea." But at James's expression, which was now bordering on a mixture of shock and incredulity, his voice rose defensively. "It's the only way, Prongs! He wants to get proof of Moony's secret – well, now he's bloody _getting _it, and it'll shut him up for good – " Sirius's voice rose still further as James's eyes widened, his jaw slack. "For Merlin's sake, the greasy idiot _deserves _it! He's been sniffing around trying to get us in trouble for ages – trying to get proof – I don't know why you're so upset! You _hate _the snivelling git."

"I don't want him to _die, _Padfoot! And especially not because of my best friends!" James was staring at Sirius again, the muscles in his jaw working up and down furiously. "Moony…Remus…don't you understand what you've _done?"_

_Remus. _This was what Sirius had been afraid of.

"Remus won't mind," he said quickly, but the words sounded oddly hollow now he was saying them out loud. "Or he won't once he realises this was the only way – "

"Sirius," James hissed, "we_ swore _we wouldn't tell _anyone_ – and you've just handed it away on a plate! Remus will _kill _Snape. How the hell do you think Remus will take that?"

Sirius stared at James, trying very hard to grasp onto the threads of thought he had gone through the night before – trying to tell himself that this was in Remus's best interests – but this was fading away rapidly in front of James's white face.

"It's the only way!" Sirius burst out. "You said yourself, we've tried everything to get him to shut up – Moony'll be expelled if Snape blabs – "

"If Remus kills Snape, they'll do a lot more than _expel _him, Sirius!"

"Dumbledore won't blame him," Sirius started, but he stopped dead at the renewed look of disbelief on James's face.

"I can't believe this," James muttered.

Sirius, too taken aback by his best friend's fury, didn't react immediately when James yanked the door open and stormed from the room. But a second later, Sirius was darting after him.

"Where're you _going?"_

"To sort out the mess _you've_ created!"

It was Sirius's turn to stare in disbelief. James could _not _be suggesting... if the teachers found out, they'd all be dropped in it; Snivellus was bound to lay the blame on them…

But James was descending the staircase, and it was painfully evident that he _was _intending to put a stop to this – that he was about to drop Sirius in it to save _Snivellus's _neck… He had to stop him, had to make James see… He lunged after him, grabbing hold of James's jumper, stopping James in his tracks.

"Sirius, there _isn't time!"_

Sirius knew that perfectly well, of course. He tightened his grip and James's eyes widened as the realisation sunk in.

"Sirius, _get off me_," he said, and his voice was deadly calm now.

"_No,"_ Sirius said. "I won't let you do this – _what's got into you?" _

"What's got into _me? _Have you lost your _mind_?" James exploded. He was more furious that Sirius had ever seen him, and he involuntarily took a step backwards, releasing his hold on his best friend. He thought James might leave, but he stood his ground, staring Sirius down with an expression of pure loathing that made Sirius's hair stand on end. "I thought you were better than this," he said, and his tone betrayed his bitterness. "I thought you were different."

The last of Sirius's patience snapped. They'd done stuff just as bad as this before; probably worse – at least this time it was all _Snape's _fault –

"Where do you get off saying that sort of thing?" he returned loudly. "We're exactly the same, you and me – you can't just run off and tell the teachers now – "

"We're not the same," James interrupted with venom. "I wouldn't do this, Sirius."

And with that last cutting use of Sirius's name, he turned on his heel and hurried down the stairs. Sirius watching him go, still furious. He heard laughter in the Common Room and, unable to contain his anger, turned around and stalked back into the dormitory, slamming the door so hard the furniture rattled. He threw himself onto his bed, still seething. James's tone was still echoing in his head – James had _never _used that sort of tone with him…James had never even shouted at him before yesterday, come to think about it; they just didn't argue – they saw eye to eye about everything…

"_Where are you going?"_

"_To sort out the mess you've created!"_

_Shit, _his best friend wasn't _really _going to tell a teacher, was he? Sirius would be in serious trouble – Snape would milk it for all he was worth; maybe Sirius would be _expelled…_

Sirius leaned over, resting his head in his hands. Why hadn't James just _listened? _He had to understand – _surely _– that getting rid of Snape was their only real option, and this was the only way to do it without getting into trouble themselves. But he'd _known _James would react like this, hadn't he? That he'd make noise about Remus. He hadn't quite anticipated the level of fury James's temper would reach though… _Bloody Merlin – _shouting at him like some self-righteous bastard –

Sirius grabbed the glass on his table and threw it across the room. It hit the doorframe and shattered. It did nothing to improve Sirius's filthy mood.

_Fuck. _Why couldn't James have just _listened?_

* * *

James threw himself through the Common Room, ignoring the laughter as he did so. His fellow House Mates must have heard some of the argument, but they seemed to find it funny, the only time anyone had ever heard Hogwarts's dream team fight… If he hadn't been so distracted, he might've stopped to shake a few of them by the shoulders – this wasn't funny: there were lives at stake.

_Shit. _James halted outside the portrait hole, standing in the corridor. He hadn't had a clear plan in mind when he'd left the dormitory – all he'd thought was of doing _something_, of stopping Snape before it was too late… But what _was _he going to do?

James paced on the spot, agitated. A teacher, he thought; he should get a teacher – Dumbledore or McGonagall – that was the logical course of action –

But what could they do? Go after Snape? He'd already been down there perhaps five or ten minutes – by the time James had found one of them and explained the whole thing…

There wasn't _time, _he realised, still pacing. If Sirius had told him before…if James just had more _time…_ but he didn't. So what could he _do_?

There was only one option, and James knew what it was. He stood for a second, trying to work out if there was any other way, but he already knew there wasn't.

Swearing under his breath, James set off at a run.

* * *

The rain was pouring down, and Peter was soaking wet from where he was huddled in a bush. He didn't wear a watch, but he'd seen Remus and Madam Pomfrey go past ages before – under a Disillusionment Charm, but he knew what to look for – so he knew it was well past the time Sirius ought to have met him. Peter shivered as a trickle of cold water dripped from his hair down the back of his neck. Where _was _Sirius?

It was difficult not to be pessimistic, sitting there wet and shivering, and Peter's self doubt was getting worse by the second. What if James and Sirius had set this up as a joke on him – what if they were letting him sit out in the rain, and were laughing at him even now as they raced up the tunnel to meet Remus?

But…they wouldn't; they _wouldn't!_ They needed Peter to get past the tree, didn't they?

But Peter knew they didn't. How many times had they sneaked out, before any of them were Animagi, to go to the Shrieking Shack, to drink Firewhiskey and brainstorm their next prank, just because they could? They'd used a long stick back then. Peter realised, with a shiver of resentment, that the others had only told him they needed him to press the knot in order to make him feel better about being an animal less exciting than a stag or a dog.

_No_, he tried to tell himself. It was always James and Sirius who were the leaders, but they _were _all friends – they wouldn't leave him out of something. Probably Sirius had forgotten – they always went together, and James had had Quidditch practice, so it was likely it had slipped Sirius's mind, and even now he was up in the dormitory, waiting for James to shower and dress. They would be late now – they'd probably have to transform as soon as they got into the tunnel. But James would no doubt still want to go to the Forest – it had been obvious during the two full moons they'd spent in the Shrieking Shack that James was itching to get loose, to run around. A stag was too big for the Shack.

Peter sat crouching, hesitating. He wanted to get Sirius – the sooner he and Sirius went, the happier James would be – and James would be grateful to Peter for reminding Sirius of their plan. But he risked missing Sirius if he moved – if Sirius wasn't in the dormitory and they didn't meet halfway…

Doubt was gnawing at Peter now. What if Sirius _had_ already gone on without him? But he _couldn't _have done, could he? Peter had been here since Remus had come down with Madam Pomfrey – no one else had come –

A sudden movement through the rain made Peter look up. A figure…a figure was approaching the tree, a long stick in their hand! So Sirius _was _planning to go without him, to leave him, Peter, behind! Surprise and hurt washed over Peter as he stood up – though whether to get Sirius's attention, or follow him, he wasn't sure. But something was wrong – the person had long, dark hair like Sirius, but they were far shorter than either of Peter's Animagus friends: the back was too hunched; the dodging of the Willow's branches too unskilled, too unpractised…

Peter realised who it was a second before the person turned their head so he could see the hooked nose profile.

Snape didn't see him. Peter could only watch in shock and panic as the Slytherin used the long stick to prod the knot in the middle of the tree, and the Whomping Willow froze. It seemed to take Snape a moment to work out what to do next, but a few seconds later he had moved forward and disappeared.

He had _disappeared. _Snape had _gone down the tunnel. _

How was that _possible? _Peter thought wildly. No one but them and the teachers knew how to get past the Willow – how had Snape found out? Had he seen Remus? But that was impossible, wasn't it? He and Madam Pomfrey had used a Disillusionment charm – they were careful.

Unless Sirius _had _already been – before Remus had ever come down with Madam Pomfrey – and Snape had seen him then… Peter wracked his memory. He hadn't seen Sirius for a while – not since James had dashed off to Quidditch practice and Sirius and Peter had left the Hospital Wing together. _Was_ it possible he'd gone without Peter? Had Snape followed?

Peter couldn't be sure, and that terrified him. Even if Sirius was there, Snape would see Remus, ill and weak, and would surely guess the truth – if Remus was not already a werewolf! The thought made Peter's breath come out in a panicked squeak. What if Remus had already transformed? What if Snape –

He needed to find James. _James_ would know what to do. Breathing hard, Peter backed away from the Willow, still staring at it, almost tripping on the bush he'd been crouched in. _Snape_, down the tunnel! He could hardly believe it!

Peter turned and fled, scrabbling up the path towards the school. It was a slow job – soaked through and freezing, with the mud slipping underneath his feet, Peter felt he was drowning as he hobbled up towards the castle. His lungs were burning – but he _had _to keep going, he had to!

It seemed it took him an age before he was finally at the doors to the Entrance Hall: he stumbled in, vaguely aware he should wipe his feet before Filch came after him, but knowing he needed to get to James. And so he ploughed on forward, towards the staircase –

But James was running down the stairs towards him. He was jumping over the steps two at a time, reaching the bottom and hurdling towards Peter, before he skidded to a stop, grabbing hold of Peter to stop himself slipping on the wet and muddy floor.

Peter had never been more relieved to see him.

"Snivellus! Snape! The Willow – "

"I know," James bit out, cutting Peter off. "Look, I need you to go and get McGonagall; tell her what's happened – "

"What about Sirius?" Peter burst out. That seemed to stop James in his tracks; he stared at Peter.

"What about him?"

"Where is he?"

"Last I saw him, in the dorm," said James quickly. "Look, you need to get McGonagall or Dumbledore – can you do that?"

Peter nodded, and James clapped him on the shoulder, his mouth set in a grim line, before he darted off again.

"Wait!" Peter called. "Where are you going?"

James skidded to a stop again, turning around. "After Snape," he said. "If he meets – " He seemed to remember, suddenly, where they were: he looked around nervously before he started towards Peter again. "If he meets Moony," he hissed, "you _know _what will happen."

"But – but – " Peter's mouth couldn't catch up with how quickly events seemed to be moving; they were slipping beyond his grasp. "It's – won't Moony be – " He lowered his voice to a whisper. "_Transformed?"_

"Yes," said James grimly. "That's why I've got to go after Snape." And he was off again, but Peter darted after him, grabbing hold of his arm, before he even knew what he was doing. Something in him had grasped how dangerous this was; though he could barely comprehend what was happening, he knew, somehow, that James could _not _be allowed to go over Snape – that James would be in great danger if he did –

"Prongs, you can't!"

"I've got to – let me _go!"_

But although the harsh, urgent tone of James's voice would normally have Peter recoiling, he merely tightened his hold on James's jumper. "You can't," he repeated in hushed tones. "The tunnel's too small for Prongs – you won't be able to transform – "

"I know," said James, and his voice was suddenly flat. Peter stared at him, trying to digest this. James – James could _die. _James could not transform in the tunnel – he was too big as a stag; only Sirius or Peter could transform, and Sirius was nowhere to be seen –

"I've got to go, Pete," said James. "_Get McGonagall, _yeah?_"_

And before Peter could grab hold of him again, James had gone, slipping and sliding on the marble floor of the Entrance Hall as he sprinted away and out of the door. Peter stared after him, at the open door and the pouring rain outside. There was an outside chance James could still catch Snape, he told himself. James was the fastest of all of them; Peter would never have stood a chance…

But Peter could have transformed if Moony came – he'd have been safe. But if James met Moony –

Peter couldn't move; he felt sick.

_McGonagall_, he thought numbly. _James told me to get Professor McGonagall. _

His legs felt like lead, but he lifted one, and then the other, and suddenly he was panting his way up the stairs, towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts Tower, towards the office of his Head of House.

_James is fast enough_, he told himself. _James will get there in time. Or McGonagall…_

McGonagall – she would know what to do.

Trying to talk himself into believing any of it, Peter continued to hurry up the stairs.

* * *

The rain was still coming down in sheets, making it difficult to see. James was out of breath by the time he reached the Willow; he was almost bent double with a stitch as he seized a long stick from the ground and reached out to the knot on the side of the angry tree. Gryffindor Tower – up on the seventh floor – was just about as far away from the Willow as you could get. He hoped fervently that Snape hadn't run all the way down the tunnel; James would never catch him. It was unlikely – the tunnel was tiny and if you didn't know it well it was impossible to go quickly. James was going to have to move, though. Snape had been down there for far too long as it was.

The Willow froze and James threw himself forward, diving under the large root and into the narrow tunnel. He stopped momentarily, trying to see any sign of the Slytherin, but there was nothing.

"Snape?" he called out hesitantly.

Silence.

The urge to scramble back out of the tunnel was overwhelming. James had never been claustrophobic before, but the knowledge he couldn't transform here, coupled together with the certainty of what was waiting for him at the other end, gave him a sudden second of panic.

_Snape's easily half way there_, he reminded himself. _You have to find him. If you don't – that's it. Remus and Sirius are both murderers. _

It physically hurt to think about Sirius. That _Sirius _– whom James had viewed practically as a brother – could be capable of this beggared belief.

"_He'll die."_

"_That's sort of the idea."_

James's desire to avoid thinking about it, to avoid touching anything at all to do with Sirius – was enough to get him moving: he pulled his wand out, lit it up, and started forward at a hunched run. The adrenaline worked to eradicate thoughts of his argument of Sirius, replaced with one mission only: _get Snape out of there._

James had navigated the tunnel at least two dozen times before, so he was well prepared for the twists and turns that came. He was fit from Quidditch training, and that helped too, but he must have been running for ten or fifteen minutes, his breath coming out in short, painful gasps, horribly loud in the tunnel, with no sign of Snape.

_Merlin, _what if he'd already –

James was on the verge of finishing that very unpleasant thought when, up ahead, he suddenly saw a pinprick of light.

"_Snape!"_ he yelled. "_Snape, _turn back – you need to get away – it's not safe – " James's breath came out in pants as he slowed to a stop, willing Snape to come back to him so he didn't have to go any further.

To his horror, the light stilled for a second, before setting off at a very fast pace in the opposite direction.

Snape was _running away_.

James swore and started running again. He was in much better shape than Snape – he ought to be able to catch up with him –

He wasn't expecting the hexes that suddenly started being thrown over Snape's shoulder as James gained ground. With a yelp he dodged a Stunner and then, somewhat to his chagrin, a Slicing Hex.

"You idiot!" he shouted. "You're putting us both in danger! We need to get back to Hogwarts!" Dodging another one of Snape's hexes, James suddenly threw himself forward, seizing the back of Snape's robes. Snape twisted round, his pale face furious in the half-light of their wands.

"Let-go-of-me, Potter," he hissed, trying to twist away from James's grip. "You've – done – it – this – time…going – to – have – you – expelled – "

"We'll both be _dead _unless you shut up and listen to me," said James firmly. Something in Snape's face flickered – perhaps it was uncertainty – but then his lip curled into a sneer.

"You expect me to _believe _that?" he snarled. "_I _know you're just trying to hide Lupin – "

Momentarily surprised at this total stupidity, James's grip on the Slytherin slackened. It gave Snape an opportunistic advantage, and James felt himself being slammed into the wall, the consequence of some nasty hex, as the Slytherin hurried away, further up the tunnel and around a bend.

They were _so close _to the Shack…

Winded from the curse but with renewed determination, James threw himself after Snape, but a terrible howl suddenly ripped through the tunnel. It sounded very close. _Too close. _

James slipped around the bend and almost crashed into Snape, who had stopped dead.

And there, barely twenty feet away, standing at the top of where the tunnel sloped upwards, was Remus, his yellow eyes and bared teeth gleaming in the light of their wands.

* * *

Sirius was still seething thirty minutes after James had left.

He was furious with everything – Snape, for being stupid enough to listen to him; James, for going to the _teachers_, for Merlin's sake… If James wanted to talk about betrayal, that was it right there – ratting out on Sirius, when James had hexed Snape enough times…

With a frustrated yell, Sirius kicked his bedside cabinet. Pain exploded in his left foot and he hobbled over to James's bed, choosing it over his own for no explicable reason. Perhaps it was the way James's voice was echoing in his head.

"_I don't want him to _die, _Padfoot…"_

"_Moony…Remus…don't you understand what you've done?"_

"_We swore we wouldn't tell anyone…"_

"_We're not the same. I wouldn't do this." _

But perhaps the one that cut the most: _"I thought you were different."_

There was absolutely no doubt as to what James had meant. Suddenly furious again, Sirius picked up the glass water jug on James's bedside table and threw it across the room. He heard the smash but didn't see it; he had already put his head in his hands. He was shaking badly.

Because, it was slowly dawning on him, James was _never _going to take this well; James was always going to try to put a stop to matter how much James and Snape hated one another, James was not a murderer, and he wouldn't let Remus become one, either.

_What did that make Sirius? _

James thought he was like all the other Blacks. But he _wasn't – _he wasn't the same! He'd decided that yesterday, hadn't he – that he wouldn't be able to kill someone? This was _Snivelly's _fault – _he _was the one who'd followed Remus; Sirius had only told him how to do it. And if Snape hadn't been so flipping _nosey_, he wouldn't have gone after a _werewolf_, for crying out loud!

Only…only _was _there a difference between him and the likes of Bellatrix? Hadn't he told Snape how to get under the Willow with the knowledge that Snape would be ripped to shreds – _hopeful, _even, that he would be? _Was _that so very different from out-and-out murder?

_Shit. Shit._

Sirius's whole body was shuddering now, his breath coming out in gasps. He _wasn't _the same as the rest of his family, he tried to tell himself: he'd only told Snivellus how to do it; he hadn't pointed his wand between Snape's eyes and extinguished the life from them. But the teachers wouldn't see it like that, would they? Once they knew it had been Sirius to tell Snape how to get past the Willow, and Snape's lifeless body was dragged from the tunnel…they would be looking for someone on which to pin the blame, and Sirius – a _Black – _was the perfect candidate. Or what if they did get to Snape in time? What if they rescued him, and he was brought up from the tunnel, screaming blue murder about Remus Lupin being a werewolf…

Either way, if James went to McGonagall, Sirius or Remus would be expelled before the night was out.

Merlin, why hadn't James just _listened to him?_ It was somehow incomprehensible that _James Potter_ had gone for a teacher – Sirius's best friend would usually rather carve his eyes out with a spoon than tattle to their Head of House – but James had been so _weird _about Remus and his secret… If only Sirius had made him understand that it was the only way, that it was the _best _way –

_Shit. _He needed to make James see – needed to make him understand. The thought of going after James – _James_, who had looked at him like he didn't _know _him, who had treated Sirius like they weren't friends at all – was enough to make Sirius want to smash something again. But he _had _to talk some sense into his best mate, he realised: otherwise Remus would be expelled, or he, Sirius, would be – and he'd have to go back to that goddamn _house _in Grimmauld Place, with his mother's bigoted views and her banshee-like scream; there'd be no escape if he was banished from Hogwarts…

Before Sirius had really comprehended what he was doing, he was hurtling out of the dorm and down the stairs, dashing through the Common Room. James would have taken the quickest way to McGonagall's office, wouldn't he? He wouldn't have wasted time, once he'd made up his mind – that wasn't James's style – but maybe before making a decision he'd had second thoughts; maybe he'd have hesitated before going to a teacher to rat out his best friend… Sirius remembered that James and Peter had suggested making a live map of Hogwarts, and he cursed the fact, now, that they hadn't done it – if only he could see if James was already talking to their Head of House; if only he could see if he was already too late! But Sirius hurtled down the corridor anyway – if he could just intercept James before he made it to McGonagall –

But it seemed it took a horribly short time for him to make it to the floor that housed McGonagall's office, and he felt sure it couldn't have taken James much longer. He'd already be talking to McGonagall; it would be too late.

Sirius approached the office with a sick feeling of dread. The door, he could see even feet away, was wide open. He could picture what had happened already: James, stumbling into their Head of House's office, taking three sentences or less to tell her what had happened; the two of them rushing off to find Dumbledore, or else going straight to the Willow...

Swallowing hard, Sirius stepped into the doorway of Professor McGonagall's office.

It was completely empty. Sirius's heart started to beat very quickly, and he felt giddy; it took him a few seconds to notice that there was in fact someone in the office – a very sodden someone, sitting in a chair opposite the desk.

"_Peter?" _said Sirius in disbelief.

Peter almost jumped out of his skin at Sirius's voice, but instantly he leaped up and started towards his friend.

"Padfoot! _Snape's _gone down the Willow! I can't find McGonagall, and Prongs said I had to find her, because – "

"What? James is with McGonagall, isn't he?" asked Sirius slowly, but a terrible feeling was coming over him, as he looked at Peter's white face. He'd never seen Peter look so ill. And hadn't Peter just said that James had told _him _to get their Head of House…?

And then Peter confirmed his worst fears.

"Prongs went after Snivellus."

* * *

"_Move!"_ James shouted, pushing Snape behind him. The Slytherin didn't need telling twice: he dived behind James and James heard the thud of running feet as he stared at the wolf in front of him.

"_Stupefy!"_ James yelled, and set off at a sprint after Snape. He knew that the Stunning spell was unlikely to have had much effect other than to momentarily startle the wolf: ordinary spells rarely worked properly on any magical creature, let alone a werewolf out for blood.

Still, he wasn't quite expecting the sound of the wolf launching itself into the tunnel after him.

_Shit._

James was already on top of Snape – _Merlin, _didn't the idiot _ever _exercise? But James wouldn't overtake him – if he did, Snape was bound to fall behind. The Slytherin was panting madly and James pushed him along, refusing to let them slow down. A terrific howl ripped through the tunnel – it was right behind them –

"_Go!"_ James yelled, stopping and spinning around to face the wolf. His heart was pounding horribly in his throat; _he couldn't transform._ "_Stupefy!"_ It was useless – the wolf was almost upon him –

"_Reducto!"_ he shouted, suddenly angling his wand up at the ceiling.

It was just in time. The whole of the roof of the tunnel between him and Remus came crashing down on top of them; James's head exploded with pain and he fell backwards as their surroundings were plunged into darkness. Earth flooded into the tunnel; James was coughing and spluttering. _Merlin, _what if he'd _killed _Remus…?

A muffled snarl told him everything he needed to know. Head pounding, James scrambled up and stumbled once more after Snape's pinprick of light. Snape hadn't gone too far – had probably turned around to see what had happened – and James was nearly on top of him when he heard another snarl behind him.

It was _much _too close.

"_Faster!" _he yelled at Snape, but Snape was grinding to a halt. James was on the brink of shouting again, but then he realised Snape was bringing his wand around to point it at the wolf, at _James's friend_ –

* * *

"What?" Sirius croaked. "He can't've gone after Snape; he can't – the tunnel's too small – "

"I _know_," Peter moaned. "I tried to tell him!"

Sirius could only stare at Peter. _James had gone after Snape. _James hadn't gone to get a teacher at all; he'd probably guessed there wasn't enough time, had worked out that Remus and Sirius would be expelled, and had gone after Snape himself. _James_ – who couldn't stand Snape –

* * *

"_No!"_ James shouted, pulling Snape's wand down at the last second. The ground beneath their feet exploded – they were thrown back into the wall, their wands extinguish, both panting in total darkness again.

"Idiot," Snape hissed. "You need to _kill_ it, we'll never outrun it – "

But he was cut off by another howl that seemed almost in their ears.

"_Run!"_ James yelled again, pushing Snape away, angling his wand blindly. His head was pounding; he felt himself sway. _"Reducto! Confringo! Expulso!" _

The tunnel exploded in all directions. James was thrown off his feet but he was quicker off the mark this time: he scrabbled backwards, keeping a tight grip on his wand.

"_Reducto!"_ he yelled again, blowing up the space he'd just vacated. "_Confringo!_" He moved backwards again as the ground under his feet exploded. Bloody hell, there'd be none of the tunnel left. But the snarling had, for the moment, stopped, and so James turned around and bolted in the opposite direction, sending another blasting curse over his shoulder for good measure.

Snape was too far ahead of him now for James to catch, though for the first time James wished he wasn't. His head was pounding relentlessly. He could hear the wolf behind him again, but thankfully it sounded further away; James hoped that if Remus, too, was injured, perhaps he might stand a chance of keeping the distance between them. But James's hearing felt oddly muted, and he pushed himself along, refusing to trust his senses.

With a jolt he realised Snape's light had gone out ahead of him. He must have reached the end of the tunnel; the relief was almost crippling. James stumbled forwards for several seconds, before he, too, reached an earthy dead end, and he shoved his wand into his pocket to himself up into the pouring rain. He ducked under the branches to avoid the Willow's flailing. Snape was a little way ahead of him and even though his head was pounding, his vision spinning, James lunged after him – he had to stop him before he told everyone –

But Snape suddenly spun around on the spot, his eyes gleaming, and James stopped dead.

Snape's wand was pointing straight at James's heart.

* * *

"But…but…" Sirius could hardly speak. An icy cold hand was wrapping its fingers around his heart, chilling him to the bone. He still couldn't give a toss about Snape, but if James had gone after him… Being an Animagus would not help James in that tiny tunnel – if he tried to transform, he'd be stuck as half human, half stag, and that would be no defence against a werewolf…

Sirius was suddenly seized with crippling anxiety, as the reality of what was taking place hit him with full force.

James might _die._

He might have seen his best friend for the very last time.

Bile rose in his throat.

And he'd thought James was _telling _on him…

Maybe…maybe if he went down there he might still catch them – _he _could transform and keep Remus at bay…but even as he had the idea, he knew he was too late: that if James was going to be killed, it would have happened already; James had been gone for too long…

It didn't matter to Sirius at that moment; he couldn't think straight. All that mattered was that he got down to the Whomping Willow as fast as possible: without waiting to explain himself to Peter, he hurled himself out of McGonagall's office, tearing down the stairs, so that he nearly bowled over his Head of House and the Headmaster himself. He didn't stop to apologise – there wasn't _time_; James could already be _dead –_

* * *

James stood stock still, staring at the wand in disbelief.

"I saved your _life_, you ungrateful shit."

The rain was coming down in pelts, and James thought, for a second, that his words had been whipped away in the wind. The way Snape's expression twisted told him he was wrong.

"Saved my life, did you?" His voice came out hoarse, and James realised he'd been as shaken by the experience as him. "You might fool everyone else, but you don't fool me, Potter!" Snape's voice was rising hysterically; his wand was shaking slightly. "You were in on this the whole time. Thought you'd embarrass me, did you? Play the hero and make me look like an idiot?" He jabbed the wand in James's direction. "You knew that Lupin was a – that he's a – "

"Don't!"

"_Werewolf!"_ Snape spat. James started forward and Snape brandished his wand. "Stay back, Potter! You nearly killed me. Don't deny it!"

"You must've guessed what was down there," James said, his voice hoarse. "You've been dropping hints all over the place – "

"IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN LOCKED UP!" Snape bellowed, and James could only stare. Of course Snape had thought Remus would be shut away; he'd never have dreamed that Sirius would deliberately lead him to his death.

"Look," James started, he put his hand out, but Snape jumped backwards.

"Don't touch me!" he spat. "I know what you tried to do." He sneered suddenly. "Well, the tables are turned now. You're going back into that tunnel, Potter!"

James's heart jumped into his throat.

"You _can't _be serious," he spluttered. "You…you saw what's down there!" The wolf would be prowling the tunnel now – it couldn't get out without help, but it wouldn't have gone away –

Snape's only response was to jab his wand in James's direction. Too slow to bring his own wand up in time, James was thrown off his feet with a sudden force that slammed into his chest. His head hit the trunk hard and he shut his eyes briefly. The rain beat down on him and he felt an odd pressure through the air as the tree's branches swung above him. Bloody hell. He had to get out of here. Snape felt as though he'd lost control, and that made him very dangerous indeed. The Slytherin was going to kill him.

"You don't have to show me you're superior!" James shouted, though his words lost their force in the wind. "I was bloody scared down there too – "

"Shut up!" Snape screeched. His eyes were wide and his wand was shaking, and James realised he must be in shock. People did strange things when they were in shock, James knew. But he _couldn't _let Snape force him back into the tunnel: it was too small for him to transform. And Remus would be after blood now, his first prey having got away.

But he felt utterly drained and defenceless as Snape stared him down. He struggled to his feet and was almost instantly walloped by a branch above his eye, just as an invisible force pushed him backwards again. One foot went down the hole leading to the tunnel. No one would know, he suddenly realised. Snape would have him ripped to shreds and be able to claim it was an accident: a by-product of Sirius's attempts to kill Snape.

"_No!"_ a voice suddenly yelled. Relief washed over James: a tall figure barrelled into the side of Snape, taking him down and, weakly, he dragged himself up to duck under the thrashing Willow branches, his feet slipping on the wet ground. James's rescuer started forwards and through the pouring rain James realised it was Sirius.

"Thank _Godric_," his best friend mumbled, and he threw his arms around James. But James was seething: he struggled to push Sirius off him.

"Don't you dare touch me," he spat.

Sirius's eyes were wide in disbelief as they stared one another down, neither of them noticing Snape struggling to his feet or the arrival of three more individuals until one of them spoke.

"I think we'd better go inside," said Professor Dumbledore. "Don't you?"

* * *

A/N: I was **so thrilled **by the response to the last chapter. It's been a rather busy time but I will be replying to you all individually. In the meantime, many thanks to Cwam, superpony55, dontgiveahoot, witheringtrees, Goldenlioness4, daisley, ArwenFairTinuviel, FriendlyNeighborhoodHPFan, NatheRiver, Guest and WolfPrinceKouga. I'm so grateful that so many of you took the time to leave such thoughtful reviews. I hope this wasn't a disappointment.


	11. A Treaty of Silence

Disclaimer: Everything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling and not to me.

* * *

**Chapter 10: A Treaty of Silence**

**14th April 1976, cont.**

The silence was becoming deafening, and they hadn't been in Dumbledore's office for more than five minutes. And most of those five minutes had been taken up by Dumbledore arguing with the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black over, one, whether Sirius deserved to be in the Headmaster's office, and, two, whether Dumbledore could legitimately banish Phineas from his portrait for the evening. Dumbledore had, of course, won. Phineas's frame now stood empty, although judging by the mutinous expression on Sirius's face, and the way his arms were folded tightly across his chest, he'd still quite like to put his fist through it. Dumbledore's gaze was lingering over Sirius, but James's best friend didn't seem to have noticed.

The silence continued. James's head was starting to pound rather painfully, although he'd already declined the Hospital Wing. To his left sat Snape, who, in contrast to Sirius's slumped posture, was sitting so far on the edge of his seat he was in danger of falling off it. He'd already been silenced by Dumbledore as he tried to tell Phineas all about the woes of his evening, but no doubt was still bursting to tell his story.

Professor McGonagall was there too, having arrived at the Whomping Willow with Dumbledore and Peter. Peter had looked downright petrified, particularly with the glares Sirius gave him, but James didn't know what Sirius had expected. This couldn't be kept quiet. Snape knew everything. Every time James remembered that fact, he wanted to vomit. The teachers _had _to know. But Professor McGonagall was fixing them all with a rather shrewd look that made James's stomach clench, and he wished he'd been sent up to Gryffindor Tower with Peter. What he wouldn't give to be in bed right now, rather than sandwiched between his worst enemy and his best friend, neither of whom he wanted to touch with a fifty foot broomstick at that moment.

The silence was broken by a loud knock; all of them jumped, except for Dumbledore. The door opened and Professor Slughorn hurried in, his hat nearly slipping off his head as he stopped, putting a hand on each of his huge thighs as he panted for breath.

"Severus, m'boy," he wheezed. "Thank _goodness, _thank goodness." He moved forward to put a hand on Snape's shoulder, before withdrawing it sharply and rubbing it on his robes. It might have been quite funny if the situation hadn't been so serious, and if James hadn't been at least as dirty as Snape.

"Now that we are all here," said Dumbledore, clasping his hands in front of him on the desk, "will someone please tell me what happened?" The Headmaster's voice was calm enough, but James thought he detected a note of quiet anger behind it he had never heard before. His gaze lacked any of its usual humour. Something in James's stomach dropped.

Unfortunately, Snape was unfazed. Before James could say anything, the Slytherin cleared his throat loudly.

"Black and Potter tried to murder me, sir."

James couldn't even find it within himself to be surprised. Possibly Snape even believed what he was saying, that James had been in on it too. More surprising, perhaps, was that James barely had the energy to defend himself. He felt absolutely drained.

Sirius, however, was evidently not going to take this lying down. He sat up straight, twisting in his seat to glare at Snape.

"I didn't try to _murder _you, you overdramatic – "

"You _knew _there was a werewolf," Snape snarled.

"So did _you," _Sirius shot back, "_that's _why you went down there!"

"_I _thought it would be locked up!" Snape hissed. "You must have known full well it wouldn't be – and you told me how to get into the tunnel!"

"You didn't have to _listen _to me, you little twerp. It's your own fault – "

"They were in on it together, sir!" Snape said loudly, speaking over Sirius. "They wanted to kill me, but Potter got cold feet at the last second – "

"No, he didn't!" said Sirius heatedly. "James had nothing to do with this!"

It was almost irritating, the way Sirius insisted on coming to James's defence, even though James hadn't looked at him once since they'd left the Willow. James refused to acknowledge it, instead choosing to stare at his lap.

"YOU AND POTTER ARE ALWAYS COVERING FOR ONE ANOTHER!" Snape bellowed. "NO ONE'S GOING TO BELIEVE YOU NOW!"

"Mr Snape!" Professor McGonagall sounded shocked that Snape would dare raise his voice in Dumbledore's office.

"Yes, thank you, both of you." Dumbledore's voice was so firm that both boys fell silent at once. His bright blue gaze lingered on James for a second, but James did not look up to meet it. "Perhaps I'd better speak to you individually," he said at last.

"They'll both feed you the same rubbish!" Snape insisted. Professor McGonagall clapped her eyes to the ceiling; Slughorn covered his face with his hand, as though ashamed any of his students could be so idiotic.

"Be that as it may, Severus," said Dumbledore, his gaze still on James, "I would be grateful if you and Sirius could step outside. Ah – Horace, perhaps you'd better accompany them."

James felt his heart sink: not only did Dumbledore want to speak to them individually, he wanted to speak to him first. But he had nothing to say. How could he possibly put into words how dreadfully wrong this had all gone? How could he tell Dumbledore how Sirius – whom they had all trusted, who James had thought he'd known better than himself – had wilfully tried to kill Snape, without even thinking about how Remus would feel?

"You're speaking to _Potter _first?" Snape demanded. "He's not the one who – "

"Goodness, you foolish boy, _be quiet._" It was Slughorn who had spoken, and even he looked a bit surprised by himself for ticking off one of his own students. It was enough to stun Snape into silence; he stood up rather jerkily. Sirius remained where he was for a second, and James was aware that he was trying to catch James's eye – no doubt to seek some reassurance, thought James bitterly, that James was going to have his back, that James would help to smooth all of this over, as he always did. James refused to look at him. After a moment, Sirius too stood up and followed Snape and Slughorn out of the door.

It closed with a click and a thud behind him. It sounded to James as though it was very far away. He wondered if he was in shock. He knew the back of his head had been bleeding – maybe he'd bled a bit more than he thought he had. It would certainly explain this numbness he was feeling, this inability to think clearly.

"James?"

James might have expected Dumbledore's voice to be gentler than it in fact was; it cut through his pounding head like a Slicing Hex. Did Dumbledore suspect that Snape was telling the truth, that James had indeed been in on this? It was not, James realised with a sick feeling, an unreasonable leap of logic; Snape was right – he and Sirius _did _do everything together.

Except, apparently, planning the cold-blooded murder of other students.

Seconds of silence stretched into minutes, and still James didn't speak. The idea that he would have to examine tonight in excruciating detail was too much to bear. He could barely get a handle on what had happened as it was. Images flashed through his mind like some sort of wild photo album: Sirius, defiant in his conviction that it was all right to send Snape to a certain death; Remus, close to killing him; Snape, with his wand pointed at James's heart…

James realised, dimly, that he was shaking; he drew in a deep breath and tried to pull himself together.

"James, I need to know what happened," said Dumbledore, his tone firm.

"Albus, perhaps…" Professor McGonagall had, evidently, picked up on the state James was in; she took a hesitant step towards him, as if afraid her Chaser was going to keel over.

"No, Minerva," said Dumbledore harshly. "This cannot wait until morning." His gaze was on James again and, unwillingly, James raised his head to meet those piercing eyes which, in spite of the harsh tone, revealed a flicker of sympathy.

"I don't know enough of what happened this evening," the Headmaster said quietly. "I need you to tell me everything from the start."

Well, that was all very well, thought James bitterly, but he couldn't tell Dumbledore everything, could he? For even though Remus's secret was out, James remained acutely aware that he still needed to protect their other very great secret. Even the merest hint that they now sneaked out at full moons would only deepen the trouble they – and Remus – were in.

_Remus. _Thinking about what would happen to his friend made James feel sick again. _Snape knew everything. _Surely that meant Remus would have to be expelled?

As though Dumbledore could read his mind, the Headmaster added: "For Remus's sake, James, if nothing else."

It was the only thing that could have yanked James's voice from where it seemed to be residing in the bottom of his stomach. He didn't doubt for a second that Dumbledore knew it and, for a moment, he resented the Headmaster for being able to manipulate him so easily.

"We've been worried about Snape for a while," he said slowly, at last. "It's been obvious he knows about Remus…about him being a werewolf. He's dropped hints – to us and in front of other people. He's threatened to tell the whole school."

It was the briefest possible summary of the last few weeks, but something made James steer away from the detail – from the story of them trying to get Snape expelled; from them trying to get dirt with which to blackmail him. James was aware in the back of his mind that it was shame: it was somehow too painful to stop and examine each event carefully, to discover where, precisely, James had gone wrong; and he knew that none of it painted him in a very good light. Remus had wanted them to lay off Snape from the start. Why hadn't they just _done _it?

"You didn't inform a teacher?" Dumbledore asked.

"We thought you'd expel Remus if you knew," James said. A flush was creeping up the back of his neck – because telling a teacher couldn't have been worse than _this, _could it? But James did not have time to think about this in detail; out of the corner of his eye, he saw Professor McGonagall's face twitch; her hand went to her cheek.

"I'm afraid, Albus," she said, her voice shaking, "that might be my fault."

James looked at her sharply – he had certainly never spoken to her about it – but Dumbledore merely nodded.

"Perhaps I would have considered that I had to in the circumstances, Minerva," he said gently. "Do not blame yourself." He turned his gaze back on James. "It is Mr Snape's accusation that you and Mr Black told him how to get past the Whomping Willow with the intention that he would meet a fully grown werewolf. What is your response?"

James's spine jerked straight. "I wouldn't betray my friend's secret," he said flatly. "I would never betray any of my friends."

"And Sirius?"

The name almost made James flinch and he looked away. He'd just said that he wouldn't betray his friends, but wasn't that precisely what he would have to do, if he was going to tell Dumbledore the truth? The truth was that Sirius had very much set out to kill Snape, just as the Slytherin claimed; if James told Dumbledore that, Sirius would almost certainly be expelled.

James was aware his silence was already speaking volumes. He risked a glance at Dumbledore again, and, heart constricting, saw understanding and disappointment in the Headmaster's gaze.

_Oh Godric._

"Listen," said James, "I can't – "

He was interrupted by Dumbledore raising one hand, and he fell silent. The Headmaster was quiet for another minute before he spoke.

"James, listen to me," he said. "I am in the rather unfortunate position of knowing only the very outline of what has happened tonight. I am aware that Mr Snape was down in the Whomping Willow tunnel; and that Mr Black told him how to get there. I am also aware that – for whatever reason – you went after Mr Snape, and that you encountered Remus in his werewolf form; that Remus came very close to killing you both. That is all I know, for now; but you must understand how serious those facts alone are. Mr Snape's side of the story is unlikely to improve matters. Mr Black is hardly a reliable advocate for himself. In those circumstances, I will only really have one option."

"You'll have to expel Sirius," said James, his heart sinking despite knowing that it was certainly what Sirius deserved.

Dumbledore was silent. James forced himself to ask the question he really didn't want to.

"What'll happen to Remus?"

Another minute of silence. The sick feeling in James's stomach increased. Then Dumbledore sat forward, his hands clasped in front of him again as he surveyed James over his half-moon glasses.

"James," he said, "I am giving you the opportunity to tell me _your_ side of the story. Do you understand?"

If James didn't feel like he'd already been to hell and back that evening, he would have openly gaped. As it was, he sat there, slightly stunned, for a few moments, staring at the Headmaster, hardly able to believe what Dumbledore was asking him to do. But Dumbledore merely gazed calmly over his half moon glasses, waiting for James to continue, for him, James now realised, to dig his two friends out of trouble.

"I…er…don't know exactly what happened," said James finally, still feeling slightly dazed. "Snape dropped a hint in Potions yesterday, in front of everyone – said he'd tell our _monstrous secret." _It still made him furious thinking about it; he clenched his hands in his lap. "Remus was…" For a second, Remus's desperate expression swum in James's mind, and he swallowed. "You have to understand," James said, his voice stronger now, "Snape looks for any excuse to get us into trouble. Maybe Sirius told him how to get down there, but Snape went because he wanted proof of what Remus is. In fact…" This was going to taste bitter, but he had to say it. "Snape must have tricked Sirius into telling him. Sirius wouldn't have told him unless he was tricked or goaded into it."

James would have loved to have believed that what he'd just said was true, but he already knew it wasn't.

_You definitely want to shut Snape up, right? Whatever it takes._

There was absolutely no doubt that it had been pre-meditated. But if James told Dumbledore the truth, Sirius _and _Remus would be expelled for sure.

"How did you come to go after Mr Snape?" Dumbledore asked.

"_You can't be serious. He'll die!"_

"_You hate the snivelling git!"_

"_I don't want him to _die_!"_

"_We're exactly the same, you and me – "_

"Sirius told me as soon as he saw Snape freeze the Willow. I thought about getting a teacher, but it felt like there wasn't time – " He broke off, unable to articulate the thoughts that had raced through his head; unable to explain, without lying, how he'd known exactly how long it would take Snape to reach Remus; how he'd known that it would take him too much time to find a teacher, explain, and get down there; precisely how he'd known that he, James, was almost the only one who knew the tunnel well enough to navigate it quickly…

James raised his head slowly. Dumbledore was surveying James again, and James had the uncomfortable sensation that Dumbledore could read him like an open book.

"Very well," said Dumbledore. "So you went after Mr Snape. What happened then?"

James swallowed. Now he could tell the truth, this part was somehow easier to recount: the words spilled out easily as he told Dumbledore how he had run to catch up with Snape; the scuffle that had ensued; the werewolf they'd narrowly escaped.

"I – I had to collapse quite a lot of the tunnel," he finished in a rush. "Sorry."

"It can be repaired," said Dumbledore, seemingly unconcerned by this, but his words lifted James's heart for the first time that evening. If they were going to repair it…that must mean that Dumbledore was not intending to expel Remus! James nearly slumped in relief.

"Is that everything?" Dumbledore asked.

_Coming out of the tunnel…the wand pointing at his chest…Snape's ugly sneer as he told James he was going back to meet Remus…_

At any other point, James would have relished the opportunity to get Snape into trouble; would have been furious that Snape thought he could get away with something like that. But now he only felt a rush of pity for the Slytherin; at least James had known what was in that tunnel; Snape had got the fright of his life, for even if he'd expected a werewolf, James had no doubts that Snape would never have dreamed it would be so easy to get to Remus. He wanted so much, at that moment, to hate Snape for doing this to all of them – for putting any of them in that situation – but James knew that this was really down to Sirius. And to James, for allowing Sirius to do it…

He just didn't have the energy left.

"Yes, sir," James mumbled. "That's everything."

Professor McGonagall made a noise, as though she wanted to interject, but Dumbledore merely held up his hand to silence her.

"Very well, James," he said quietly. "I would be grateful if you could step outside and send Severus into me. I would like to speak to you all together at the end, if you wouldn't mind waiting. Minerva, perhaps you could relieve Horace?"

The thought of being outside with Sirius was horrible, but James reluctantly stood, opening the door. Professor Slughorn, Snape and Sirius were standing on the steps outside, all looking as though they'd rather be anywhere else.

"Horace, you're to take Snape inside," said Professor McGonagall in clipped tones. Snape did not need telling twice; probably desperate to tell his story, he bolted into the office, followed by his Head of House, who patted Professor McGonagall rather awkwardly on the arm before he too disappeared and the oak door closed behind him.

* * *

Dumbledore was still sat behind his desk, exactly where Severus had left him. His head was bowed; his long fingers were clasped in front of him; and his eyes were closed, a small frown line between his silver eyebrows, as if he were deeply troubled. Severus wondered what cock and bull story Potter had fed him. Dumbledore had probably believed every word, he thought sullenly, taking a seat opposite the Headmaster. Potter had a way of twisting everyone around his little finger.

Well, Potter wasn't going to get away with it this time. Severus would see to that.

Slowly, Dumbledore opened his eyes, as Slughorn took a seat next to Severus. His bright blue eyes surveyed Severus intensely.

"I have heard from Mr Potter," he began. Severus snorted. This did not appear to faze Dumbledore. "I understand," the Headmaster continued calmly, "that it was Mr Black who told you how to get past the Willow, Severus. Perhaps you could tell me when and how he did so."

Severus, who had been expecting an interrogation on the existence of a werewolf at Hogwarts, blinked in surprise, but he recovered quickly. He'd spent his time outside going over what he was going to say, and this was his moment to shine.

"I saw a werewolf, sir," he said clearly. "Lupin's a werewolf – "

"I am perfectly aware of that," said Dumbledore. "Though I thank you for your concern."

Severus stared, transfixed, at the Headmaster, his eyes wide and his throat, for the moment, oddly closed. It had not occurred to him, in the twenty minutes outside, that Dumbledore had actually _known _about this – but of _course _he had, Severus berated himself furiously. If Madam Pomfrey had known about this, _Dumbledore _certainly had: and Dumbledore could hardly have failed to do anything but supervise the planting of the Whomping Willow just before they'd arrived at Hogwarts. How could he have been so _stupid?_

It was the effect of that evening, he realised. He wasn't thinking clearly.

"I asked you about what Mr Black told you," said Dumbledore. Severus drew in a breath, determined not to be deterred by the minor setback.

"_Black _may have been the one to tell me, Professor," he said. "But I assure you that Potter and Lupin – and probably Pettigrew too – were in on it."

Severus had had twenty very long minutes to think about the events of that evening. And the more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that this wasn't just a scheme cooked up by Potter and Black alone. That werewolf had been waiting for him: it had been standing at the end of the tunnel and there hadn't even been a door that Severus had seen. It had all been too easy. Which led to one conclusion.

Lupin had been in on it too.

"I see. And what gave you the impression that Misters Potter, Lupin and Pettigrew knew anything about this, Severus?" Dumbledore pressed the tips of his fingers together in front of him, surveying Snape intently. He did not believe him, Severus could tell. It was galling, but Severus wasn't about to let any of them get away with this.

"They do _everything _together, sir. It's _inconceivable _that they would not have known about it. Evidently Potter got cold feet at the last minute – "

"As I understand it," Dumbledore interrupted calmly, "Mr Potter saved your life."

"_Saved my life?"_ Severus spluttered, his fury barely allowing him to get the words out. "Potter _obviously _realised the sort of trouble he'd get into if I was killed and wisely decided to save his neck – and Black and Lupin's too!"

Dumbledore sighed; he adjusted some papers in front of him. "Very well, Severus," he said wearily. "How and when did Mr Black tell you about the Willow?"

Severus stared at him, barely able to mask his contempt for the Headmaster, whose inability to hide what he was thinking was surprising and disgusting. "Sir," he said loudly, "Potter's not some sort of – "

"_Thank _you, Severus," said Dumbledore.

"But Lupin – "

"_Severus_." Dumbledore did not raise his voice, but it was firm enough to make Severus fall silent. "Please answer my question."

Severus's lip curled. If he could not get Potter and Lupin into trouble, he was certainly going to milk Black's role for all it was worth – there was certainly no way Dumbledore could deny _that. _He'd already been through how he was going to present it all, and he was absolutely certain that Black's time at Hogwarts was at an end.

"I was going back to the Slytherin Common Room last night after some revision," he said. "Black was already waiting for me. He told me if I wanted proof that Lupin was a werewolf, all I had to do was use a long stick to press the knot on the Whomping Willow."

Severus sat back, satisfied that it was painfully obvious that this had been all Black's doing. But Dumbledore was surveying him, his eyes bright, and Severus had the uncomfortable feeling that he was being subjected to one of those Muggle x-ray machines; as though the Headmaster could read his every thought. _Legilimency_, he suddenly realised, his heart hammering. He'd read about it – about the practice of reading minds, although it was an extremely rare branch of magic. Was Dumbledore doing it to him right that second? There was a way to defend yourself against it – _Occlumency_, Severus thought it was called – but he hadn't tried it for himself. Watching Dumbledore's piercing gaze, however, Severus resolved to learn it at the very first opportunity.

"It was Mr Potter's story that you had dropped a number of hints – both to him and his friends and in front of others," said Dumbledore at last.

Severus's eyes narrowed. "Only to stop him harassingme, sir – he and Black broke into my dormitory and went through all my belongings; did he tell you _that?"_ Dumbledore's lifted eyebrows gave Severus hope – he ploughed on. "They stole my bag; they attacked me so they could search through my pockets…"

Slughorn was staring at him, looking stunned that all this had gone on under his very nose. "Well, Dumbledore," he said slowly, turning to the Headmaster. "This seems like a straightforward case of bullying that's culminated in tonight's events – "

"Thank you, Horace," Dumbledore interrupted. His eyes were still on Severus, but Severus stared defiantly back. He wouldn't letDumbledore twist this around – Potter and Black had been on his back for weeks; no one else would have been allowed to get away with this…

"Why did you believe Mr Black, when he told you about the Whomping Willow?"

"Because I saw Madam Pomfrey and the werewolf – "

"Mr _Lupin_."

"-cross the grounds tonight," said Severus, unable to stop his lip curling into another sneer. "They used a Disillusionment charm but I saw them freeze the tree. And Black told me there was a tunnel underneath and that I could follow them."

"I see." Dumbledore pressed the tips of his fingers together again. "As I understand it," he continued, "you knew there was a werewolf in that tunnel. And so I'm afraid I have to ask the rather obvious question, Severus: why go down there at all?"

Severus regretted very much at that moment to having confessed to knowing that Lupin was a werewolf – if he had denied all prior knowledge, it would have made Black's actions seem much worse. But that didn't mean that Black was going to get away with it.

"Well, obviously," he said, "I didn't dream there'd be a werewolf _loose _in the tunnel."

He didn't even have to exaggerate that part. Who in their right mind would have dreamed it was so easy to find a werewolf running loose? Severus had thought the tunnel led somewhere – that he would be brought to some sort of confined cell, reinforced by protective spells. Instead, it was just a tree – a tree! – which stood between a killer and the Hogwarts population. It didn't make sense.

Something in Dumbledore face flickered, and, encouraged, Severus ploughed on.

"If you ask me, sir, this shows clear evidence of Lupin's involvement in the whole affair – "

"Am I to understand it, Severus," Dumbledore interrupted, his tone weary, "that whatever state you thought you might find Mr Lupin in, you _were_ looking for proof of a werewolf?"

Severus ground to a halt abruptly, unable to stop his face contorting into a scowl. Bloody _Potter. _Evidently, he had already wrapped Dumbledore around his finger – the way he did with the whole stupid _school_…

Severus remained stubbornly silent. Dumbledore sighed.

"Severus," he said quietly. "I cannot help you if you refuse to talk to me."

As if _Dumbledore _was going to help _him_, Severus thought derisively. All he was interested in was buying Potter's pathetic sob story.

Dumbledore appeared to realise that Snape was not going to be forthcoming; he sat back in his seat.

"Mr Potter informs me he blasted apart the tunnel for you both to get away. Does that accord with your version of events?"

Of course, Potter would make himself out to be the hero. Severus merely nodded curtly. Dumbledore sighed again.

"Very well, Severus," he said. "If you have nothing further to add, please send in Mr Black. I think it's time I spoke to him."

Severus was acutely aware of an opportunity missed; furious, he stood up, his posture stiff, and stormed over to the door, yanking it open. Professor McGonagall, standing at the top of the steps, eyed him in surprise.

"Black," he spat.

Black was slouched against the wall, a few steps below; his head jerked up, and he peeled himself from the stone, walking, it seemed, with legs that were too heavy. Severus merely eyed him in contempt as Professor McGonagall swept past him and back into the Headmaster's office. Potter, somewhat to Severus's surprise, was still there, a little further down than Black had been, one knee bent so his foot was pressed against the wall.

"Dumbledore wants to see us all at the end," he muttered without looking at Snape. "So don't go anywhere."

Severus loathed Potter as much as he ever had at that moment, but even he did not dare disobey Dumbledore. And so he took up the space Black had just vacated, as Slughorn stepped out of the office and the heavy oak door closed once more.

* * *

Sirius stepped into the office, his heart hammering rather painfully. It had been without a doubt the longest half-hour of his life, waiting for Dumbledore to call him in. The last ten minutes, in particular, had been agony: James had not looked at him once, his gaze fixed on the wall opposite, while Professor McGonagall sighed and bristled at the top of the stairs. It had given Sirius ample time to appreciate the trouble he was in.

It was difficult, however, not to feel some level of resentment about the whole thing. He wasn't the one who had sneaked around, trying to find out what they were up to. He wasn't the one who had all but announced that Remus was a werewolf in the middle of the Potions classroom. And he wasn't the one who had been idiotic enough to act on a hint and wander blindly off to find a werewolf at the full moon. Yet he was the one in trouble.

It beggared belief.

Still, it wasn't easy to hold onto that thought as he took a seat opposite Dumbledore. The Headmaster had his eyes closed, as if he was very, very tired. Sirius had the uncomfortable thought that perhaps it was because Dumbledore didn't want to look at him.

"Sirius," said Dumbledore quietly without opening his eyes, "I think I have the full picture by now."

_I bet you have, _Sirius thought. He opened his mouth to argue, but Dumbledore opened his eyes suddenly, and fixed his gaze on Sirius. The words died on his tongue.

"You have put me in an extraordinarily difficult position," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes still levelled on Sirius's. "It is Mr Snape's story that you set out to kill him deliberately, by engineering a situation in which he would meet a transformed werewolf. If that is indeed the case, I cannot do anything other than expel both you and Remus."

A chill ran down Sirius's spine. "But Remus had nothing to do with it; he was out of his mind – "

"Oh, I agree whole-heartedly." Dumbledore pushed his chair away from his desk and stood up, walking over to the window so that his back was to Sirius. The full moon was plainly visible; Dumbledore seemed to study it for several long moments before he turned back to look at Sirius. "But you are not a nobody, Sirius. Whilst you might think your family would be quite glad to have you out of this school and out of Gryffindor House, others – including many of the Governing Board – would want to know why I thought I had the nerve to expel a member of the Black family. In that situation, I could hardly lie. And what exactly do you suppose the Governing Board would make of the fact I had been keeping a werewolf at Hogwarts for five years? Do you suppose they might congratulate me on my open-mindedness, for attempting to provide a bright and otherwise normal boy with the education he deserves?"

Sirius's mouth was dry; his heart was beating very painfully. "They'd make you expel Remus."

Dumbledore's silence said it all.

"But – but – " Sirius's brain was struggling to get a hold on the magnitude of his actions. "I didn't _tell _him about Remus – he already knew! He was just desperate to get his proof – "

"So you gave it to him, you foolish boy!" Professor McGonagall snapped from where she was stood to the right of Dumbledore's desk. Her cheeks were tinged pink. Sirius stood up furiously.

"_You _didn't see him!" he burst out. "_Or _Remus, when Snivellus nearly told our whole Potions class – "

"Please sit down, Sirius," said Dumbledore wearily. "It will not help your case to shout at your Head of House."

Sirius turned to the Headmaster, his heart hammering.

"I was trying to protect Remus," he said, trying to keep his voice level. "All I did was – "

"I suggest you listen to what I have to say, Sirius, before you continue. Please take a seat."

It went completely against Sirius's instincts, which were screaming at him to defend himself, but he found himself lowering himself into a seat again. Dumbledore remained where his was, resting against the windowsill.

"What I have heard from James is that Mr Snape has gone to some effort to intimidate Remus and his friends by threatening to reveal Remus's condition. You were concerned that telling a teacher would result in Remus's expulsion. James has told me that he does not know the precise details, but feels sure you only would have given away the secret of the Willow under extreme duress or by being tricked. He is adamant that you would not have done so on purpose."

Sirius's head, which had been bowed over his lap, jerked up to stare at Dumbledore, but the Headmaster's expression gave away nothing. Sirius's mind reeled as he tried to process what Dumbledore had said. It didn't make sense; James _knew _he'd done it purposefully, that he'd sent out with every intention to get rid of Snape. And that led to only one conclusion: James had lied to get Sirius out of trouble. Something in Sirius's stomach shifted; for the first time in hours, Sirius's heart felt lighter.

"Clearly," Dumbledore continued, "if that is what in fact happened, it seems to me that it would be somewhat unfair to expel you. Indeed, I anticipate it could be dealt with in some fashion that did not involve the governors at all."

So this was the choice. Sirius was to lie and save himself and Remus – even though Dumbledore would know perfectly well that he _was_ lying – or tell the truth and face the consequences. It was not really a choice, although something stirred in Sirius's gut that felt suspiciously like resentment again: even though he had been in the right, he was being forced to lie, he was being robbed of the opportunity to convince Dumbledore that, morally, he was not a bad person.

"That's exactly what happened," said Sirius at last. "I was going for a walk and ran into Snape. He made it sound like he already knew about the tunnel under the Willow and about Remus, and tricked me into confirming it."

He could not even be bothered to make it sound believable, although it would have been all too easy: the whole school knew that Snape was sneaky enough.. For a moment Dumbledore held his gaze, and Sirius thought for a split second he saw his own resentment mirrored in those blue eyes. Dumbledore _wanted _to expel him. Sirius's insides suddenly felt like lead.

"Minerva," said Dumbledore, "I would be grateful if you could invite the others back into the room."

Sirius had almost forgotten that Professor McGonagall was in the room. His Head of House crossed the room to the door, but Sirius didn't look round. He was aware of footsteps; he saw James and Snape take seats to his left as Dumbledore sat back down at the desk.

"As I understand it," Dumbledore started after a short pause, "we should all count ourselves fortunate that James acted quickly in saving Severus's life this evening. The consequences – "

"_Saving my life?" _Snape interrupted. Sirius glanced to his left. Snape was looking horrified. "He didn't _do _anything! He wouldn't even kill the bloody werewolf when it was going to kill _us_ – "

Sirius felt his face drain of colour but James had suddenly sat bolt upright, glaring at Snape.

"Like _you _tried to do, you mean?"

"It was trying to kill us!" Snape snapped.

"_He's _one of my best friends!" James said. His face, so curiously blank before, was now lined in anger.

"Yes, thank you, both of you," Dumbledore started. "I'm sure James acted admirably in the circumstances – "

Snape was suddenly on his feet and his usually pale face was flushed with colour. "_I will not listen to this!" _he bellowed. "_Potter and Black tried to murder me and you're acting like Potter's done me some sort of favour!"_

"He _has!" _Sirius was on his feet too, his temper suddenly peaking, the frustration of that evening erupting to the surface once more. "_I _would've left you to it, personally!"

"Black!" Professor McGonagall sounded shocked but Sirius didn't care.

"You would've bloody deserved it, you nosey git!" he said fiercely. "But don't stand there and act like a flaming hypocrite – _tell them what you did when you got out of there! After James had saved your life!"_

"Sirius," Dumbledore started, but Sirius was beyond reason, his frustration with himself now focused totally on the greasy cockroach to James's left.

"I'll tell you what he did!" he shouted. "He – "

"That's _enough, Sirius!"_ Dumbledore was on his feet too now; only James was left sitting. "Please will you _all sit down!"_

They all stared at Dumbledore. No one had ever heard the Headmaster raise his voice before. Finally silenced, Sirius slowly lowered himself into his seat again as Snape did the same. Dumbledore remained standing, surveying them over his half-moon spectacles. He closed his eyes for several minutes. He suddenly looked very grave, and very old. Blood seemed to be pounding in Sirius's ears as Dumbledore opened his eyes.

"I do not think I need to explain to any of you that this was incredibly dangerous. I have never been more disappointed in my time as Headmaster."

Sirius felt the back of his neck heart up.

"I extend my commendation to James for his actions this evening, without which the consequences would likely have been devastating for all parties."

Sirius's gaze flickered to James at this allusion to Sirius's and Remus's potential expulsion, but James wasn't even looking at the Headmaster; his stare was fixed firmly on his lap, his lips pressed together in a straight line.

"Severus," Dumbledore continued quietly, his gaze now on Snape, "you'll understand, of course, that you were out of bounds tonight. Whatever you might have believed about Mr Lupin, it would been prudent to discuss this with a teacher. I do not think your efforts to get other students into trouble is to be commended, nor is your tendency towards blackmail and threats to be encouraged." Dumbledore finally sat down again and rested his elbows on the desk, studying Snape intently. "Thirty points from Slytherin, I think."

Even Snape had the sense to keep quiet, although his expression was twisted into a resentful sneer. Sirius couldn't believe that Snape was getting away with what he had tried to do to James, but he didn't have time to contemplate it much, as Dumbledore turned his gaze on him, his expression unreadable.

"You must understand," said the Headmaster, "that none of you make terribly reliable witnesses. The feud between you colours your accounts; in any circumstances it would be difficult to separate truth from exaggeration." Sirius's heartbeat was roaring in his ears, waiting for Dumbledore to continue. "On that basis, the most plausible explanation for what happened this evening was that Sirius was likely goaded in some way by Severus and was provoked – however unintentionally – into revealing the secret behind the Whomping Willow."

"_You can't be serious!" _In his fury, Snape had once again forgotten himself; he was on his feet again, staring at Dumbledore in disbelief. "It couldn't have been more intentional – _he _sought _me _out; he told me that if I wanted proof I should – "

"You have had your opportunity to tell your story, Severus," said Dumbledore. "Please sit down."

"But you've got it all wrong," Snape insisted. "Black was trying to deliberately have me killed – "

"Dumbledore, it does rather seem…" Slughorn evidently did not quite know how to complete that sentence, but he took a hurried step backwards as Dumbledore turned to him.

"As I said, Horace: none of them make very reliable witnesses."

"Yes, yes…" Slughorn would never have dared openly disagree with Dumbledore. He turned to Snape. "Sit down, Severus; there's a good lad."

"But…but…" Snape, it seemed, had been rendered speechless, but he didn't sit down.

"Well, remain on your feet if you must, Severus, but I haven't got all night." Dumbledore turned back to Sirius. "Sirius, "you will lose fifty points for what was a gross error in judgement this evening."

Sirius's jaw went slack, staring at the Headmaster, but his heart started to slow, lifting with the realisation of what Dumbledore meant. Points – he could live with points being taken away!

"_A gross error in judgement?" _Snape bit out. "He tried to _murder _me!"

"Professor McGonagall, I trust you will be in touch with Sirius to arrange detentions for the rest of the school year," Dumbledore said as if Snape had said nothing at all. "And, Sirius, I hope you will think very hard about this episode, and count yourself fortunate that the consequences were not fatal."

Sirius's stomach clenched. A short pause followed, but then James spoke up, his voice quiet but determined.

"What about Remus?"

"Indeed," said Dumbledore, his gaze lingering on James. "As we discussed, the tunnel will have to be repaired – "

This was too much for Snape.

"Repaired?" he burst out. "Headmaster, you _can't _be suggesting – "

"I will not be expelling Remus unless I absolutely have to, Severus!" said Dumbledore loudly. Snape started spluttering.

"Lupin was obviously in on it too – "

"He was _not_," said James and Sirius at the same time.

Dumbledore held up his hand; they all fell silent. With a weary sigh he turned his gaze on Snape. "Severus," he said. "I must have your word that you will not repeat what you saw tonight to anybody."

"_What?" _James and Sirius were on their feet together, staring at the Headmaster.

"You _can't _be serious," said James hoarsely. "This isn't Remus's fault – you can't trust _Snape _with this – "

"I can and I will, James," said Dumbledore. Sirius merely gaped: was Dumbledore _mad? _Snape was looking for any excuse to get them expelled – he'd expose them; he'd expose _Remus –_

And then Sirius understood.

This was the real punishment, wasn't it? He'd have to live with the knowledge that Snape could betray his friend at any moment, because of what Sirius had done. His whole body slumped, and he almost fell over, the crushing weight of it bearing down on him. He couldn't speak. If only Snape had just copped it – if only he had disappeared permanently, like Sirius had intended. Remus's secret might've been safe.

"What makes you think _I'm _going to keep Lupin's filthy secret?" Snape sneered.

"See?" James demanded. "He won't do it!"

"Oh, I happen to think he will," said Dumbledore, still irritatingly calm. "Sirius was not the only one who might have been facing expulsion this evening."

Sirius's head jerked up, his mouth going slack with shock. Snape was openly gaping. Dumbledore's meaning could not be plainer: he knew precisely what had happened once Snape and James had got out of that tunnel, and he was not prepared to let Snape get away with it.

"Is this something Potter told you?" said Snape furiously. "Because – "

"James," said Dumbledore, his gaze flickering to Sirius's best friend, "did not, oddly enough, say a word about you, Severus. But I happen to be able to see with my own eyes." He paused, fixing Snape with a hard look. "Do I have your word, Severus?" he asked.

Snape looked physically ill. "Yes, sir," he said, sounding slightly strangled, as though each word was being clawed from his throat.

"Very good." Dumbledore clasped his hands in front of him again. There was a pause while they all waited for their dismissal, but it didn't come. "I want to impress upon all three of you," he said finally, "that feuding in this manner is neither sensible nor productive. You could all use your time more valuably than by attempting to get one another in trouble, or by breaking into one another's dormitories. It is, in my view, a tragedy that a petty rivalry could have got two students killed this evening."

James's head was bowed; he looked as though he was ready for the ground to swallow him up. Snape was staring furiously at Dumbledore, like he wanted very much to give the Headmaster a piece of his mind. Sirius felt nothing. It felt like Dumbledore had missed the point. This was not a petty rivalry. Snape would have gone to the ends of the earth to get them all expelled; and they were ready to do the same to protect Remus. But he said nothing; how was he ever supposed to voice five years of mutual hatred?

"It is for this reason," Dumbledore continued, "that I am going to ask Sirius to apologise to Severus."

For a moment everyone simply stared. Then:

"_What?" _Sirius demanded. "You have _got _to be joking!"

"Manners, Black!" Professor McGonagall reprimanded him, but Sirius twisted furiously to look at her.

"Don't you get it? He'll hang this over us forever – we're only here because Snivellus wouldn't keep his nose out of our business – " Sirius rounded on James. "You tell them – Snivellus doesn't deserve an apology!"

At any other time, James would have been on his feet beside Sirius, protesting how unfair it all was, how Snape wasn't just some innocent boy who had been lured into danger. But all James did now was to meet Sirius's gaze coolly, challenging him to continue. It was difficult to believe, that _James _would want him to apologise to _Snape, _but James's behaviour had been all over the place tonight – furious with Sirius; not telling Dumbledore about how Snape had tried to kill him; lying to get Sirius out of trouble. Sirius stared at him for several long seconds, before he eventually looked away.

"Sorry, Snape," he muttered, almost choking on the words.

"What was that, Black?" Snape asked. "I didn't quite catch that." A smirk was playing around his lips, and Sirius wanted to howl with the unfairness of it all – couldn't anyone see how much the little git was enjoying it?

"I said I'm sorry," Sirius spat, louder. Apparently satisfied, Snape sat back in his seat. So did Sirius, his arms folded tightly across his chest. He just wanted to be out of this bloody office now.

But Dumbledore wasn't quite finished.

"And Severus – you will apologise to Remus tomorrow."

Snape's smug expression dropped so fast it was almost funny.

"What have _I _got to apologise to _him _for?"

"Oh, I don't know," James bit out before anyone else could. "Going out of your way to find out why he was missing every month? Threatening to tell everyone his secret? Putting his life in danger just for the sake of getting us into trouble?"

"_He _nearly killed _me," _said Snape.

James snorted. "Only because you went looking for him."

"Thank you, James. Severus, I believe Mr Potter has summed it up quite appropriately. You will visit Remus in the Hospital Wing tomorrow afternoon, please, to apologise," said Dumbledore.

Sirius wouldn't have trusted Snape alone with Remus for two seconds, but eventually Snape mumbled an agreement, and Dumbledore sat back in his seat.

"In that case," he said, "I think you three are free to go," he said. "James, you may wish to visit the Hospital Wing on your way back to Gryffindor Tower…"

Sirius had almost forgotten that James was injured, but as James stood up, Sirius caught sight of the blood staining his best friend's collar.

"I'm fine," said James abruptly. "But who's going to tell Remus?"

"I think I will leave that to you to decide," said Dumbledore, his voice quiet. "You know Remus best…I will drop by the Hospital Wing tomorrow afternoon, so if you are able to deal with it before then…"

Snape, clearly indifferent to this dilemma, had already thrown open the door to the office and stormed off. James shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and followed him. He was avoiding Sirius's eye.

James did not set off in the direction of the Hospital Wing when they reached the stone gargoyle. In fact, he turned away and walked abruptly in the opposite direction, away from both the Hospital Wing and Gryffindor Tower. He didn't look at Sirius, but Sirius ran after him, pulling him back.

"Where're you going?" he asked in a low voice. "Are you mad? We're in enough trouble – "

James's reaction was to turn around and punch him square in the jaw. Swearing, Sirius let go of him, staggering backwards. His jaw was smarting horribly. James could pack a better punch than he realised.

"I guess I deserved that," Sirius muttered, rubbing his jaw.

"Too right you deserved it," James hissed. His hazel eyes were blazing and Sirius could sense he was squaring up for an argument.

"Just a suggestion," he said coolly, "but shall we go somewhere we _won't _be caught?"

It didn't seem high on James's list of priorities, but he stormed into the nearest classroom and threw up a _Muffliato _charm as Sirius shut the door quietly behind them.

There was silence for a good thirty seconds as Sirius's heart pounded and James faced away from him, staring out of the window. It felt so _wrong, _staring at James's back. They were always on the same side.

"Er…thanks, I guess," Sirius muttered eventually. "For lying to Dumbledore."

"I didn't do it for you," James snapped.

"Yes you did," Sirius returned. James turned around, his expression furious, but they both knew Sirius was right. James wouldn't have betrayed his friends for anything – even when they might have deserved it. Not that Sirius _would've_deserved it.

"You wanted to kill him, Sirius," James said eventually, his voice heavy with disbelief. "You gave away Remus's secret because you _wanted him dead."_

"I wanted him gone to protect Remus's secret," Sirius corrected.

"How can you still believe that? Don't you realise _how much shit you could have got him into?_" There was a pause, and then: "You could have got him bloody _put down, _Sirius!"

"Well, it didn't work, anyway, did it?" said Sirius irritably. He was growing increasingly uncomfortable.

"No – but what now? If you think he's been miserable _thinking_ Snape knows, think how he's going to feel knowing that his whole life rests in _Snape's hands!"_

Sirius swallowed. "Look, I didn't mean for this to happen," he said.

"Don't give me that bollocks," James hissed. "You've been planning this since last night." He leaned back against the window, his arms folded across his chest. "Don't you remember our promise? We swore we wouldn't tell anyone. Now Snape's wandering around Hogwarts safe in the knowledge he's got something to hold over Remus's head – "

"Snape won't tell," said Sirius. "He'll be expelled."

James fixed him with a withering glare. "I'm sure that will be of great comfort to Remus when Snape blabs. 'Don't worry, Moony – Snape's expelled too!'"

The back of Sirius's ears burned; even he knew that even though Snape might face expulsion, it wouldn't stop him from threatening to tell, all the same. They'd never be sure.

"Why'd you lie for me, then?" Sirius asked.

"I thought you already knew," James snapped.

They were both quiet for a moment. The distance between them felt huge. Eventually Sirius spoke, voicing something that had been really grating on him for hours.

"I'm not like them, you know," he said. "Whatever you think, I'm not like the rest of my family."

James closed his eyes; reached out to rub his face. "You tried to commit murder, Sirius."

"No one tried to murder anyone," Sirius argued. "Snape chose to go sneaking down under the Whomping Willow – "

"He'd still have died if I hadn't gone after him," James snapped.

"MURDER!" The cupboard in the corner suddenly burst open, and Peeves swooped out, cackling madly. He swooped over their heads as James and Sirius watched him, stunned and horrified. "MURDER IN THE STUDENT BODY!"

"Peeves, shut up," James hissed, but Sirius could see how shaken his friend was, and he didn't blame him – Peeves wasn't exactly known for keeping his mouth shut.

"POTTER'S A HERO!" Peeves cried, disappearing through the door. "SAVING OLD SNIVELLY!"

They could hear him echoing down the hall. Sirius turned back to look at James, who had gone very pale.

"How much do you think he heard?" he asked.

"Probably only the last bit," said Sirius uneasily. "That cupboard leads to the dungeons, remember? He's probably only just got here."

"You better bloody hope so." James straightened up. "Or the whole school will know by tomorrow morning."

It was probably true, but Sirius didn't think Peeves had heard very much. Peeves liked to shout the juiciest secrets from the rooftops – and Remus being a werewolf was much more interesting than the fact James had saved some greasy Slytherin.

"So what now?" he muttered.

"I don't know." James sounded frustrated and he ran a hand back through his hair before running it down the back of his head. "I need some time to think about this."

They were the words Sirius had been dreading: the confirmation that James was not simply momentarily angry with him, but that this might have irrevocably damaged their friendship beyond repair. Frustration bubbled inside him. Why couldn't James _understand?_

"Prongs," he started, but James was already shaking his head.

"This is…scary, all right?" he said, and his voice was hoarse. "I'm scared I've been wrong about you for five years. I need time to _think."_

Sirius's anger disappeared instantly; panic rose in his chest. "You're not wrong!" he said, and his voice was croaky too, but he had to make James see. "I'm not like them!"

But the expression on James's face told Sirius that his friend was not convinced, that it didn't matter what Sirius _said, _because his actions had already spoken volumes. He dropped his head as James walked past him to the door.

"How close was it?" he managed to get out.

"_Too close," _was James's only reply, before he slipped away down the corridor.

* * *

A/N: Huge thanks in this chapter go to ArwenFairTinuviel, who told me that Sirius should apologise to Snape.

Apologies that this chapter has taken so long; it was impossibly difficult to write. It seems to me that this is where a lot of 'prank' stories burn out, and now I can understand why! Further apologies if this isn't quite up to scratch; it may be that I go back and tweak it, but I thought it was about time I owed you a chapter.

Thanks, as always, to everyone who reviewed, and I'm sorry I haven't been able to get back to you all individually. I value your opinions nonetheless.


	12. Where the Shrapnel Falls

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognise belongs, of course, to J.K. Rowling and not to me.**

**A/N: I can only apologise for how long this has taken. In addition to being a nightmarish chapter to write, I am currently travelling, and a good internet connection is hard to come by. I hope you're still sticking with me, and I hope this doesn't disappoint.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Where the Shrapnel Falls**

**15th April, 1976 **

No one could have predicted the upset that would occur that morning – not even the boys who were at the centre of it.

As it happened, none of them were around to hear it.

It was eight-forty, and Lily was having breakfast with Marlene and Alice, who were furiously debating the merits of drawing up a revision timetable. With the OWL exams less than seven weeks away, Alice seemed to be heading for a mild state of panic; she had spent every night that week in the library, and that morning she had produced the revision timetable she had drawn up to show Lily and Marlene, apparently in an effort to persuade Marlene to develop one too. This had not gone down well with Marlene who, as far as Lily could tell, had yet to contemplate any sort of revision.

"It just all seems a bit regimented," she was saying rather critically to Alice. "I mean, what if you need more time on, say, Charms than you've accounted for?"

"That's why I've got these spaces," Alice said, tapping some empty blocks on her timetable. "To fill with whatever I need to practise most."

"You mean that's not free time?" Marlene screwed her face up in disgust. "Where's your time to, you know, _have fun?"_

"There's plenty of time for that after the exams," said Alice. Then, at Marlene's resentful expression, she said: "Oh, Mar, come on, you know I only want you to do well. And if you just put your head down for the next few weeks – you're really clever, you know…"

As Marlene gave a rude snort, Lily had to hide a smile. Alice was right – Marlene_ was_ really clever, but as she did not work as hard as Alice or Lily, she seemed to have more or less decided that she was the stupid one, even though, as far as Lily knew, Marlene had never actually received a failing mark. Considering the little effort she put into her homework, this was quite some achievement. But the teachers had warned them repeatedly that even the best memories would need to revise five years' worth of notes.

"C'mon," she cut in, before Marlene could say anything else, "we'll practise together over the holidays. That ought to make it less boring. Then we can reward ourselves with chocolate frogs or something. And we'll use Alice's timetable as a base to work from."

Neither Alice nor Marlene could argue with this, which almost made revision sound like it wasn't the chore it had already proved itself to be, and they lapsed into quiet as they got on with their breakfast.

"Wonder where the boys are," said Marlene suddenly. Lily looked up, only half-interested, from her pancakes. Sure enough, the space where the fifth year boys usually sat was empty. Then again, she thought, Remus hadn't been well the day before; perhaps the three others were in the Hospital Wing visiting him. But just as she was debating whether to draw her own friends' attention to yet another of Remus's sicknesses, a loud cackle sounded from the Entrance Hall. Peeves.

"Oh no," Alice moaned. "I hope he's not throwing Stinksap bombs again. That was awful, last time."

"I think the Bloody Baron more or less made him promise he'd never do it again," said Lily, who had been one of the Prefects charged with clearing up the resulting mess. It had been a gruesome job; she'd spent most of lunchtime in the shower, trying to wash out the smell.

But Peeves, evidently, had more important things to do that morning than throw Stinksap bombs at first years, because they did not hear the screams of students from the Entrance Hall; instead, the high, delighted voice of the poltergeist swept into the Great Hall, filling it somehow, as though he was deliberately shouting at the top of his voice to ensure everyone in the school could hear.

"MURDER! ATTEMPTED MURDER IN THE STUDENT BODY!"

The effect was instantaneous: the whole Hall fell deathly silent. Lily exchanged glances with Alice and Marlene, who looked dumbstruck, before she looked up at the staff table. Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall had their heads together, whispering, but so far they were doing nothing.

Apparently, Peeves took this as a licence to continue.

"POTTER'S A HERO!" he shouted, and he suddenly swept into the Great Hall, dropping several water balloons on the Hufflepuff table as he went. Several people gasped, drenched in water, but no one made any noise louder than that: everyone was too busy staring at Peeves, who floated high above their heads, crossing his legs and turning somersaults as he cackled to himself. "POTTER THE HERO!" he sang loudly. "SAVING OLD SNIVELLY SNAPE – oh, he was stupid, he was, sneaking through the tunnel under the Whomping Willow – lucky old Potty got there before he was eaten by – "

"PEEVES!" Professor McGonagall was suddenly on her feet, and she looked furious. Her wand was out, and aimed at the poltergeist.

"What?" Peeves asked, but he looked rather sullen as he eyed the wand in McGonagall's hand. "Just telling them about what a hero Potty is! Nuffin' wrong with that, is there?"

"You…you…" Professor McGonagall looked at a loss for words; she was quite red in the face, and her hat was slipping off her head. Dumbledore remained seated; outwardly he appeared quite calm, but there was a small frown line between his eyebrows. Peeves suddenly let out another cackle, before he swept out of the Great Hall again.

"HERO POTTER! SAVED SNIVELLY!" they could hear him shouting down the hallways. Lily saw Dumbledore say something to Professor McGonagall, who nodded quickly, and hurried from the Great Hall after Peeves, one hand on her head as she tried to keep her hat from slipping off.

There were several seconds of silence, before the whole Hall burst into noise.

"James Potter saved _Severus_ _Snape?" _Alice said immediately.

"_What _tunnel under the Whomping Willow?" said Marlene.

But Lily did not answer; she was on her feet, craning her neck to look at the Slytherin table. There was Avery, and Mulciber, and Rosier, and all the rest, all of whom looked like they were enjoying this piece of gossip – they looked as excited as the people around Lily did – but Severus was not with them. Slowly, Lily sat down, hearing James Potter's and Severus's names echoing around her. Her heart was thudding rather painfully; she felt somewhat ill. Alice, who was watching her closely, put a hand on her arm, her round face soft with understanding.

"It's probably some story Peeves has made up," she said in a low voice. "I mean, it's pretty unbelievable, isn't it?"

It _was _unbelievable, Lily thought, but that wasn't what mattered: even if it were not true, the whole school thinking that James Potter had saved him would be of the deepest humiliation to Severus. Craning to look at the Slytherin table again, Lily thought she could see Jugson and Rosier acting out the story Peeves had told. No, there would be no support from his dorm mates; true or not, Severus would get a lot of stick for this.

"It's not that unbelievable," Marlene was saying. "Sneaking into a tunnel that's off-limits sounds like exactly the sort of thing Snape would do, especially if it'd get someone into trouble."

"But he wouldn't be in any danger," Alice argued. Her hand was still on Lily's arm. "Dumbledore's not likely to keep something dangerous somewhere where students could just stumble on it, is he?"

"But they wouldn't, would they?" said Lily quietly. "We're all banned from going near the Whomping Willow." Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Davey Gudgeon at the Hufflepuff table was suddenly receiving a lot of attention.

"For good reason – Davey nearly lost his eye just trying to touch it," said Alice briskly. She seemed determined that Lily was not going to be upset by this story. "How on earth do you think someone gets underneath it whilst keeping their limbs in tact?"

But neither Potter nor Severus were present at breakfast, were they? Lily thought, feeling sick. What if they had been badly hurt? Her stomach churned as she imagined Severus lying in the Hospital Wing, having lost an eye or worse…

"It…it does explain where James tore off to in such a hurry, though, doesn't it?" said Marlene uncertainly. "Last night, when he ran through the Common Room – he nearly knocked over the Quidditch Captain and he _never _ignores her..."

Lily's insides twisted further as she recalled this: she, Alice and Marlene had been doing their homework in their favourite armchairs next to the fire the previous evening, when James Potter had suddenly torn through the Common Room as though his life had depended on it. Alice had even cracked a joke that, for once, Potter had passed Lily without messing up his hair. He had not returned, Lily remembered now, although she hadn't thought much of it at the time. Had he _ever _returned to the Tower, or was he, too, injured?

"I…I think I'm just going to…" she started, standing up, intending to go to the Hospital Wing immediately to check if Severus was there. But Alice pulled her back down, pointing to the staff table where Dumbledore was getting to his feet. A hush was falling once more over the Great Hall.

"Forgive me for interrupting breakfast," said the Headmaster, "but I have a short notice from Professor Sprout, who has asked me to remind you all that the Whomping Willow is not only a rare but quite dangerous specimen. I therefore beg of you all that – no matter your curiosity – you do not attempt to approach it."

He sat down again, inclining his head to speak this time with Professor Slughorn, who was leaning across Professor McGonagall's empty seat.

"That's it?" Marlene looked slightly stunned, and Lily did not blame her. Why had Dumbledore said nothing about the rest of it – about Severus and James Potter?

"Well, what did you expect him to say? That it's all a load of bollocks?" said Alice stoutly. She shot Lily a sympathetic look, but Lily could not bring herself to look grateful; she was too worried about Severus – either that it _was _true, and that he was hurt, or that it wasn't true, and that he would be horrendously humiliated when he found out the story Peeves had been spreading. Nervously, she yanked out her timetable, but she already knew she had no classes with Severus that day; it was Marlene's favourite day of the week precisely because the Gryffindors had no joint lessons with the Slytherins.

"Peeves wouldn't have just made up the story for fun," Marlene argued. She, of all of them closest friends with Potter, and most derisive of Severus, was most likely to believe that the story was true. "And James isn't here to enjoy the joke, so why would he have bothered to feed it to Peeves?"

_Another good point, _Lily thought. Peeves had been too gleeful, too certain, for it simply to be a fake story he had made up himself...Peeves only usually made up things to get himself out of trouble. But if he had not made it up and Potter and his friends had not fed it to him...

"What did Peeves mean by attempted murder?" said Lily suddenly. She had been running through what Peeves had said again, and she realised, now, that his opening lines had made no sense.

"Well," said Alice slowly, "I suppose he meant – if it _were_ true – that whatever lives in that tunnel would have killed Snape. If – um – Potter hadn't saved him." Lily's horror must have shown on her face, because Alice added hastily, "Look, Lily, can you really imagine _James Potter _saving Severus Snape?"

"Yeah, OK, that part's pretty unbelievable," Marlene admitted, and Alice shot Lily a triumphant look. "But," Marlene continued, "where _are _James and Snape?"

Plenty of people seemed to be asking this question; there were a lot of heads craning to look at the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. Alice seemed to notice that Lily was looking green again, for she said quickly, "Come on, we should get to History of Magic; I bet Potter's already there. Anyway, this will definitely have blown over by lunchtime, Lils, don't worry."

But as Lily left the Great Hall, hearing the names of James Potter and Severus Snape whirling around her, she thought it very unlikely that anyone would forget in a hurry the biggest gossip Hogwarts had seen in years, and she dreaded the moment when Severus discovered that the whole school thought that he had been rescued by James Potter.

* * *

"You haven't finished that Charms essay, have you? Can I copy?"

"Rosier, that's my cloak – look, it's got my family's crest on it – "

"Who's nicked my Herbology textbook?"

Severus lay in bed the next morning, hidden from view by his four-poster hangings, listening to his roommates stumbling around the dorm getting ready. He knew it was well past the time he should be getting up, but he could not bring himself to move. His body felt achy with exhaustion – the product of a sleepless night spent tossing and turning as he simmered over the humiliation and rage of the previous evening.

Even now, he thought as he stared up into the canopy of his four poster bed, it all seemed like a particularly bad dream. Potter and Black had tried to kill him, and had got away with a few taken points and a handful of detentions. Potter's white face and Black's sneer of indifference as they lied through their teeth swum in Severus's mind and he squeezed his eyes shut in a scowl, anger threatening to overwhelm him again. That Potter and Black had once again got away with behaving as no one else would dare to, that Severus's life had been on the line, made him sick with disbelief.

And Lupin….

Most of Severus's fury as he lay awake in the early hours of the morning had been directed towards Potter and Black, but thinking about Lupin brought on something more than anger. Severus's stomach turned now as he thought about it. It was not simply the notion that Lupin had surely been in on it (though how else had he been ready to launch himself into the tunnel so quickly?), but something more, that made his skin crawl every time the sandy-haired Gryffindor came to mind. It had taken Severus until three a.m. to work out what it was.

_Fear. _

He had wanted to berate himself the moment he thought of it; even now, in the dim light of morning, the idea was laughable. Lupin was not half as talented as Severus, nor as gutsy, and it would take Severus mere moments to beat him in a duel on any normal day. But that…that _thing _Lupin turned into once a month…

Disgust was overwhelming him again; Severus rolled over in bed, clutching the bedclothes tight around his body. Scared of Remus Lupin – the idea didn't bear thinking about!

But every time Severus tried to convince himself, he remembered the gleam of those teeth; those yellow eyes; and that howl that had echoed through the tunnel…

"Is he coming to breakfast or what?" he heard Avery's voice say.

"No time," came Burke's swift reply.

"Every man for himself, I say," said Mulciber, who almost certainly would have taken great exception to being left behind. But his dorm mates seemed to agree: with the heavy thud of five people leaving the room, they left Severus alone.

It was not terribly surprising: Slytherins did not, as a rule, look out for one another, and his dorm mates probably hoped to be laughing at his growling stomach all morning, or to watch as he was ticked off by a teacher for being late. But Severus had banked on this, because he still needed more time to come to terms with how awful the previous night had been; how he was now stuck keeping what he knew to himself; and how close he was to expulsion.

It had been a mistake to turn his wand on Potter, he reprimanded himself for the hundredth time as he threw back the bedclothes and swung his legs out of bed. He wouldn't have done it if he hadn't been feeling so shaken, so rattled – certainly not out in the open like that, anyway. No, he would have waited until he could attack Potter on the quiet, when no one would realise it was him…

Instead, Severus's mistake had cost him dearly. He now had to keep Lupin's disgusting secret to himself, unless he wanted to be thrown out of school and sent back to Spinner's End. The thought of having his wand snapped, of having to live with his mother and father as a Muggle and putting up with his father's daily drinking and his mother's hysterical fits, made Severus want to retch. For a moment he stood hunched over, clutching at his ratty, ill-fitting pyjamas, allowing himself a few moments to indulge in self-pity. It really was too much to bear. _He _was the one Black and the others had tried to murder; _he _was the one who had nearly been killed; _he _wasn't the one who turned into a werewolf once a month, posing a danger to the whole of Hogwarts – and yet he alone faced expulsion. Expulsion had not even been _suggested_ for Black or Potter.

_Favouritism. _That's what it was: Dumbledore favoured his precious Gryffindors over a Slytherin, even though if Potter and Black had been expelled, they'd have been pampered and cherished in a way Severus never would be in Spinner's End. The injustice of it was galling.

The only small mercy of all this was, at least, that no one else would know; Potter and Black wouldn't dare to boast of how they'd tricked Severus, and how Potter had pretended to save Severus, lest Lupin's secret was discovered.

He straightened up, taking a steadying breath as he pushed his hair out of his eyes. _Pull yourself together, _he told himself sternly. Potter's and Black's expressions had said it all the previous night: they were absolutely horrified he now knew what Lupin was, that he could spill the secret at any moment he chose. Severus didn't need to be worried – as humiliating and horrible as all this was, he should not forget the power he now held. _He knew their secret – _and even though he'd be expelled for telling, Potter and Black couldn't know for certain that that would stop him. Perhaps there might be one very satisfying outcome from all this angst: perhaps Severus would permanently gain the upper hand in his feud with Potter and Black.

It almost enough to make him look forward to the day ahead. Not enough to go to breakfast, but he felt a bit better as he pulled on his robes and packed his bag, and by the time he left the dormitory he almost felt like his normal self again.

He was, in fact, in such a positive mood that he barely paid the group of sniggering fourth years in the Common Room any mind, despite the silence that fell over them as Severus walked past. They were a particularly vapid year group, and were usually to be found gossiping over one thing or another. As such, Severus merely spared them a disdainful glance as he crossed the Common Room and stepped out into the corridor, and he'd already forgotten about them as he started walking quickly through the dungeon corridors. He was running late; he would need to hurry if he was going to make it to Transfiguration on time.

He had to slow as he passed the Potions classroom; several small huddles littered the corridor, as they usually did at this time. But instead of wearing the bored expressions one usually saw on the faces of Slughorn's students (few had the appreciation for Potions that Severus did), Severus noticed that they were crowded together, whispering. He glanced at them, mildly intrigued, as he tried to squeeze past, but one of the Ravenclaws caught his eye and a sudden hush fell over the group, spreading like a ripple until the whole class was simply staring at Severus.

It took all of his willpower to keep edging past them, rather than stop and demand what they thought they were looking at. He knew he didn't look his best – a sleepless night did that to you – but he didn't look _that _bad, did he? Uncomfortably, he realised he hadn't looked in the mirror that morning, too preoccupied with his thoughts on Potter, Black and Lupin. Maybe there was something wrong with him… Self-consciously, his hand went to his hair, before he remembered that it was a habit of Potter's, and he hastily let his hand drop to his side, striding quickly along the corridor again, resisting the urge to look back at the sixth years staring holes into his back…

But there seemed to be groups everywhere – in the Entrance Hall; crowded on the stairs; making themselves late for class as they made small huddles along the corridors, gesticulating and talking in excited voices, so that Severus couldn't help but hear what they said as he neared the Charms classroom.

"Yeah, a tunnel under the Willow, that's what I heard – "

"Severus Snape was sneaking down there – you know, the one Potter's always fighting with – "

"Haven't you heard? Potter's a hero!"

_What? _Severus stopped dead on the spot, turning to stare at the students who had been speaking. But they were already darting into Flitwick's classroom, giggling and gasping, thrilled with their story of Potter's supposed heroism, leaving Severus unnoticed. Severus watched them go with a kind of numbness. How was this _possible_? Potter _wouldn't_ boast of what had happened, _surely_…

But he must have done, Severus realised, feeling sick as he forced himself to turn away from the classroom in which the students had just disappeared. How else could the whole school be so aware of the latest gossip – how could they all know to avoid Severus's eye, to snigger as he passed, to talk about Potter _saving _him?

Unable to stand it, Severus ducked into the nearest boys' bathroom.

Mercifully, it appeared to be empty. Severus dropped his bag and leaned over one of the basins, clutching it so hard his knuckles turned white as he breathed hard. He didn't know why he was surprised; Potter used any excuse to show off. He was so arrogant it probably hadn't occurred to him that Severus wouldn't listen to Dumbledore…

But it was so _unfair. _It was Potter, surely, who should be on edge, terrified of provoking Severus into saying anything. Because, all right, Severus was on thin ice, but it wasn't in Potter's interests for him to be expelled, was it? If he was going to be expelled, what reason was there for Severus to stay quiet about Lupin's filthy secret? Potter ought to be doing everything he could to make sure Severus stayed in school, not provoking him by spreading stories about what had happened the previous night….

_Everyone _must know, Severus realised with dread as he bowed his head over the basin. It was probably the biggest gossip Hogwarts had seen all year. Worse, no doubt choice details had been deliberately omitted – details that might have saved Severus from looking quite so much like an idiot – and it wasn't as though Severus could tell everyone what Lupin was. His House mates would never let him live it down; he'd be the laughing stock of Slytherin. _Lily _would find out…

_No, _he thought, trying to force down his panic. Lily was sharp enough. She'd think this was some stupid story made up by Potter to embarrass him; she'd give him sympathy and brush the whole thing aside. She _had _to. He could barely contemplate the alternative; Potter was already after her…

Maybe that was why Potter had told everyone, Severus thought as the fear rose up in his throat again: a ploy to lure Lily away from Severus and towards him. The idea made him feel sick; he realised dimly he was shaking. His breath came out in deep gasps as he tried to get a grip, to channel his churning emotions not into fear but into his anger and hatred towards James Potter. The whole thing was painfully clear now: Potter had set the whole thing up to trap Severus into silence and to impress Lily, all the while knowing that he would reap the benefits, and he, Severus, would be humiliated and unable to say a word. _How _could Severus have not realised?

He had to force himself to slow his breathing, to remain calm – rash action had, after all, helped to get him into this mess. But the feeling of hatred was acute. Severus raised his head to look in the mirror. He looked terrible – all sunken eyes and too-pale skin. He didn't care. He met his black gaze, haunted and angry, in his reflection, and made himself a solemn promise.

James Potter did not know what he had taken on. But Severus would ensured he paid for it.

* * *

Everything hurt. That's what Remus registered first: he hurt like he had not hurt in a considerable period of time. His arms felt thick and heavy and he knew without opening his eyes that they were bandaged. He had a pounding headache. He shifted his weight, trying to assess the rest of the damage, and groaned out loud as the skin on his ribs rubbed against some sort of material – another bandage probably.

"Mr Lupin? Can you hear me, dear?"

Remus cracked his eyes open. Madam Pomfrey was leaning over him, her expression anxious. Her face swum and he squeezed his eyes closed again.

"I've got some potions that will make you feel better if you can sit up…."

Hands grabbed Remus either side, easing him into a sitting position. They were gentle, but another wave of pain rippled through Remus's ribs and a groan escaped his lips. _Merlin_. It had not been this bad since…since…

God, he knew exactly when. The summer after first year, when he had come inches away from killing his mother. His father had intervened just in time, saving his mother's life, but the result had been that Remus, driven mad by the narrow escape of human prey, had shred himself almost to pieces.

_But why…_

"Drink this, Lupin. You'll feel much better."

A goblet was pushed into his hands; they shook as he raised it to his mouth. The first swallow almost made him choke: it was painful enough to make him realise he must have attacked his own throat. But after the first sip a wave of warmth spread through his body; the pain started to dull; his head started to clear. He opened his eyes again as he finished the potion, squinting in the bright sunlight flooding the room. Madam Pomfrey took the goblet and gave him another.

"That was for the pain," she said. "You need to take a Blood Replenishing potion too. Try not to make any sudden movements; it will open the wounds again."

Remus nodded the smallest amount and accepted the goblet that was offered to him. He had never minded the taste of Blood Replenishing potion, and he finished it in three gulps, pushing the cup back at the nurse before closing his eyes and falling back against the pillows.

"Perhaps it might be better if you came back later, Potter…"

Remus's eyes cracked open again; he turned his head so quickly he felt sure the wounds on his neck had just reopened. James was sitting on his left; that solved the mystery of who, other than Madam Pomfrey, had helped him to sit up. This was not unheardof; occasionally, when he had had a particularly bad night, his friends would be there waiting when he woke up. But…but something was wrong this time; there was no sign of the others and James looked very, very pale.

_Humans in the tunnel…_

The force of the memories from the night before hit Remus in such a powerful wave that he lurched forward. A bowl was shoved into his lap and he retched, his vomit a dark, sickly red from the potion he had just downed. It swum in front of him, swirling in the bowl, no substance to it.

"Potter, I really think – "

"No!" said Remus hoarsely. "I've got to know – he's got to tell me – " The awfulness hit him again and he retched once more into the bowl. "Did I – did I – " He could not bring himself to say the words, but there was nothing left in him to throw up; the retch was almost entirely dry this time and he coughed and spluttered. Arms pushed him gently back against the pillows again and the bowl was removed from his lap.

"No one was hurt," came James's voice, very close to him.

_No one was hurt. _The relief was so overwhelming that for a second Remus just slumped, exhausted by his own worry. But it was short-lived, because _something _had happened – _there had been humans in the tunnel – _and, evidently, the school nurse knew all about it because otherwise James would not have been so quick to reassure Remus in front of her...because it ought to be unthinkable that anyone knew how to get into the tunnel…

Memories were fading in and out like a poorly tuned wireless…the smell of human blood…explosions…pain…

"What happened?" he croaked.

"Potter – "

"_Please_," said Remus. "I've…I've got to know." He opened his eyes. The school nurse had pursed her lips.

"Very well," she said. "Potter – get him to take the potions on the side if you can. And _don't upset him_."

She bustled away and Remus turned his gaze on James, who stood up to cast a _Muffliato _Charm in the nurse's direction and draw the curtains. He turned back – almost reluctantly, it seemed – to Remus, whose heart was hammering very fast.

"_Who?"_ he whispered. "Who was it in the tunnel?"

"Me," said James.

Remus stared at him for several seconds, unable to comprehend this – _James_, who knew full well the dangers… "Prongs, you can't transform in the tunnel," he hissed, forgetting, for a moment, that Madam Pomfrey could not hear them anyway.

"I know." James sat down, his movements jerky. It was so unlike James to be this quiet, this _monosyllabic_, that Remus found himself staring at him again.

"Weren't…weren't we supposed to be going into the Forest? What went wrong?" The fact that he had to coax the answers out of James somehow made him angry: the Forest had been _James's _idea, and if it had gone wrong… But James remained silent and Remus's frustration grew. "_Tell me!"_

"Snape," James almost mumbled; if Remus hadn't had such good hearing he would have missed it. James drew in a breath; raised his hazel eyes to meet Remus's. "_Merlin, _Remus – Snape went after you to get his proof. He was in the tunnel too. I was trying to stop him."

_There had been two of them. _Remus thought he remembered that now. But it explained nothing.

"He can't have been," he said, his voice shaking. "He doesn't know how to get past the – "

"Sirius told him," James interrupted, his tone desperate, as if the words had tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

The words hung in the air between them. Remus stared at James again, now not even able to ask him to explain further. Sirius could not have told Snape. Not _Sirius_.

But it had to be one of them – they alone knew the secret of the Willow. And it was not James and Peter wouldn't have dared…

Luckily, James seemed to have found renewed strength to recount the events. "After Sirius and I had that argument the day before yesterday," he said, "Sirius went and found Snape. That's when he told him how to get into the tunnel. To find his _proof_." His tone was bitter, but Remus barely noticed; he felt like he saw nothing, because this _couldn't _be happening…Sirius knew as well as James what the dangers were; he couldn't have sent someone to find a werewolf…someone who was completely defenceless…

"Snape…Snape took the bait," James continued shakily. "Sirius didn't tell me until after he'd seen Snape disappear under the Willow – "

"_We're not going to tell anyone, right, lads?"_

"_A pact! An Unbreakable Vow!"_

The old memory hit Remus powerfully; he lurched forward again. James shoved the bowl into his lap just in time, but all Remus did was dry heave, shaking violently.

"Remus, do you want – "

"Just – tell – me – what – happened!" Remus got out through gritted teeth, still hunched over, though he pushed the bowl away.

James, still leaning forward, spoke quickly. "He told me it was the only way to shut Snape up. So I went after Snape – and pulled him back, but he saw you – "

Remus slumped against the pillows again, the reality of what James was saying bearing down on him.

Snape had seen him as a fully fledged werewolf; he knew what he was. And Remus could have killed him.

"So that's it, then," he whispered. "I'm to be expelled?"

"What? _No_." James's tone was fierce and Remus's head jerked up, hardly daring to hope – but James's expression was wretched. "You're not expelled," he said. "But Dumbledore didn't exactly…Obliviate Snape. He…er…asked Snape nicely if he'd keep quiet." Remus's horror must have shown on his face, because he continued in a rush: "Well, more threatened him – said he'd expel Snape if Snape said anything."

"Oh, yes, I bet that would happen," said Remus, unable to hide his bitterness. "The governors would never tolerate someone's expulsion just because they revealed a werewolf…" His voice cracked horribly; he closed his eyes and took a deep breath that made his whole body shudder. This was incomprehensible. Sirius could not have told Snape. Sirius _wouldn't – _

"_A pact! An Unbreakable Vow!"_

"_I vow I will keep Remus's secret as long as I live."_

"Why would Sirius tell him?" Remus whispered.

James was silent, and Remus knew, instinctively, that his friend was deliberately not telling him.

"_Why?" _he demanded again.

"Because," said James, and his voice lowered so that it wasn't much above a mumble again, "he thought the only way to shut Snape up was to get rid of him. By feeding him to a werewolf."

Silence. Remus's eyes stared ahead, his gut churning horribly, but he was suddenly unable to move, even to retch into the bowl again. "Sirius…Sirius was hoping I'd _kill _Snape?" he asked hoarsely.

James said nothing, but he nodded jerkily. There was another minute of silence, before a strangled noise suddenly escaped Remus's throat, and he yanked the bedsheet sharply upwards, burying his face in it so that it was hidden from James. He was shaking badly, his mind spinning as he tried desperately to get a grip on himself. But it was impossible – because Sirius had not just told Snape; he'd turned on Remus in the worst possible way, manipulating Remus's weakness and exploiting his worst fears… When Sirius had not treated him any differently, Remus had believed, foolishly, that he had been able to see past the monster – to see him as something more than the killer he turned into once a month… But the truth was now clear: Sirius had to hate him to do this, to risk ruining Remus's whole life…

"It'll be all right," he heard James say quietly.

"_All right? All right?" _Remus's voice was loud and incredulous as his ripped his hands away from his face to stare at James. "How can you say that? I thought Sirius was one of my best friends; do you know what that's like, to be betrayed by someone you thought liked you, and valued you?" Remus's voice was beginning to shake; in fact, his whole body was shaking. "But of course you don't," he continued bitterly. "Sirius would never have treated you the way he's treated me." All at once, he was seized by overwhelming resentment: James would never understand, because James was not an outcast the way Remus was – James was not surprised to have friends; neither James nor Sirius needed to be grateful for them. And it had made them thoughtless and reckless, he realised now.

James had gone pale, but he said nothing – he could hardly deny what Remus was saying. But for some reason this only fuelled Remus's anger and resentment.

"It's _always_ been you two– egging one another on; taking more and more risks; thinking things are funny when they're not – " Remus was drawing ragged breaths; he was dimly aware that he had lost control, but his anger was making him reckless: his fury and hurt trying to find an outlet.

"I wouldn't have done this," said James. "I would never have let Sirius think – "

"He wouldn't have done it if he didn't think you'd be all right with it! He might have known you'd argue – but he'd never have done it if he thought you'd find it unforgivable – "

It was unfair, and Remus _knew _it was unfair – it was only, it seemed, thanks to James that he had not killed Snape – that he was not facing the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Magical Beasts that his father had spoken to him about… But it was always true, he thought, that Sirius had preferred James over anyone else; and now it was evident that he had only put up with Remus for James… He was not Remus's friend. This realisation made him want to retch again. He had been so _pleased _to have friends, to feel at last like he belonged somewhere, to feel liked. But Sirius had simply been biding his time, ready to use Remus when it suited him.

James was silent again, and Remus felt a rush of guilt: he had not meant to make James feel badly. But he was too shaken to apologise: instead, he dipped his head.

"So what now?" he muttered. "Is the Ministry being called in?"

James paused before answering. "No. Dumbledore wants to keep it quiet. He's not expelling Sirius either – though he's got detention for the rest of the year."

_Detention. _It did not even come close to what seemed to Remus to be adequate compensation. For him _or _for Snape. He could just imagine Snape's outrage – and Remus could not blame him, because feeding someone to a werewolf ought to attract something a thousand times worse than _detention_ – werewolves who tried to bite humans faced the worst possible penalties…

"Dumbledore's going to come and see you later," James mumbled. "This afternoon."

"Right." Remus did not ask if Sirius was going to come and see him. The answer was obvious.

"Sirius and I argued last night," James suddenly blurted out after a brief pause. He looked wretched. Remus could not hide his surprise – when did James and Sirius _ever _argue? – and James evidently took this as a sign to explain. "I just don't see how…" He trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose, raising his glasses slightly and making them sit askew. "I just never thought he'd do something like this. He kept saying Snape deserved it – but _no _one deserves that, do they? Not even Snape?"

It was Remus's turn to be silent. James was right, of course, that no one did deserve to be fed to a werewolf, but it only served to make Sirius's betrayal all the greater: that he saw Remus as a monster, as just a way to get rid of Snape, made Remus want to retch again. He could not even look at James; he felt hollow, as though all his insides had been ripped out. Being at Hogwarts – having friends – was the happiest Remus had ever been, and now… Were any of them his friends? Did any of them really like him?

"I'm sorry," said James hoarsely, and Remus's head jerked up warily.

"For what?" he asked, sure that James was about to apologise for pretending to be his friend for five years.

James looked wretched. "For letting Sirius think…letting him think it'd be funny." Remus blinked, too taken aback to say anything. James took a steadying breath and went on. "But I wouldn't have done this," he said. "I wouldn't – I wouldn't _see _you like that; you're not some _killer _– " He stopped abruptly, his voice hoarse again, but Remus understood. It had always been James, he thought, who had stood by him most unwaveringly – James who had insisted something had to be done to make it easier on him; James who was particularly stubborn in his view that Remus was no different from anyone else; James who had proved time and time again that he was undoubtedly Remus's friend…

"Thank you," he whispered, dropping his head, unable to say anything else. There was a hand on his shoulder, and it gave a tight squeeze, as if it understood.

* * *

James was tempted to skive off the rest of Charms as he left the Hospital Wing. He didn't feel like practising stupid Colour-Changing spells, or making tea cosies tap dance; not when Remus's haunted gaze seemed permanently seared onto his brain, not when this awful, tight knot had settled in the pit of his stomach.

"_It's always you two, egging one another on…thinking things are funny when they're not…He'd never have done it if he thought you'd find it unforgivable…"_

Sirius had been cold with him that morning, getting dressed without looking at him, leaving the dormitory without saying a word. Was he, too, blaming James, because James had given every indication over the years that this sort of thing _was _all right, and now he was backtracking on that record?

_There's a difference, _James told himself, _between hanging someone up in the cupboard for a few hours for being a sneak and trying to murder them for it. _

But his insides were twisting horribly. Telling Remus had been much worse that he'd imagined, even as he ran over and over it that morning, waiting for his friend to wake up. He regretted having said he'd do it – but Sirius's protestations of justification the night before, coupled with his mutinous gaze that morning, had not convinced James that Sirius would do it properly. He'd known Remus was going to be upset, and it wasn't fair to Remus to make him sit there listening to Sirius talk about how Snape had deserved it. Remus might have got the impression that they _all _thought that.

Or perhaps it might have given Remus an opportunity to give Sirius the dressing-down he deserved; James didn't know.

James came to a halt in the middle of the corridor, running his hands through his hair restlessly. He felt awful – only partially a result of the headache he still had from the night before, and the fact he had skipped breakfast that morning to go straight to the Hospital Wing. Remus's words kept rolling over and over in his mind. _It's always you two …he'd never have done it if he thought you'd find it unforgivable…_

Suddenly feeling that he did not want to be left alone with his thoughts after all, James changed his mind, straightened up and changed the direction he'd been going in, veering towards Charms. He wanted to sit in a classroom full of people who knew nothing of werewolves and secret tunnels and all the rest of it. He was sick of people being angry with him, sick of being angry with other people, sick of the feeling of guilt that had settled in his stomach. Perhaps for the first time ever, James wanted nothing more than to sit silently in class and think about nothing but learning. True, he was horribly late – he'd already missed History of Magic completely – but he hoped Professor Flitwick knew where he had been and wouldn't make a fuss.

Sure enough, when James knocked and pushed open the door of the Charms classroom, Flitwick only gave him a kindly look and gestured for him to sit down before turning back to the board. Several other people were staring at him, though – even, he noticed as he made his way towards where Peter was sitting (Sirius was on the opposite side of the classroom and staring determinedly out of the window), Lily Evans, though she was trying hard not to. Self-consciously, James ran a hand through his hair. He looked questionable, he knew he did: there was a nasty cut above his eye and his uniform was even sloppier than usual. He was grateful to slip into a chair next to Peter, who was eying him worriedly.

"I'll fill you in at lunch," James muttered, not wanting to talk about it now. Seeing Sirius ignoring him so pointedly had bothered him more than he cared to admit. He pulled his Charms textbook, a piece of parchment and a quill from his bag, trying not to let his gaze stray to the other side of the classroom.

"Er, good," said Peter. His small eyes were fixed on James. "But listen, Prongs – "

"What're we even doing?"

"No idea, but – "

"_No idea? _What's Remus going to copy from?" James felt very protective of Remus, suddenly; and he was sure Remus would not feel better if he thought he had slipped further behind than usual. He looked up at the board, scanning Professor Flitwick's notes. It looked like they were revising Banishing Charms.

"Look, we've got a problem – "

"Can't it wait until break?" James asked, feeling as though he already had more problems than he felt able to cope with.

"Potter and Pettigrew, pay attention," said Flitwick mildly from where he was teetering on his stepladder, writing on the blackboard.

"Prongs, I _really need to talk to you," _Peter hissed, the moment Flitwick had turned back to the board.

"_Later," _James shot back. He needed to write quickly if he was going to copy all the notes down for Remus…

But as he was scrawling the date and the title at the top of his parchment, he felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned to see Alvina Carrington behind him. He eyed her sceptically. He'd never liked her; there was always a rather ruthless air about her, not to mention her apparent belief that she was above everyone else.

"We were just wondering," she simpered in a whisper, "if the rumours are true. Did you really save Severus Snape from a monster last night?"

James's heart skipped several beats. His gaze snapped to Peter, who was looking rather stricken.

"That's what I was trying to tell you," he said in a quiet, miserable voice. "_Everyone knows."_

* * *

"Sev! _Sev! _Wait up!"

Lily increased her pace, struggling to keep her heavy bag from slipping off her shoulder, as she ducked and weaved between students flooding downstairs, chatting and laughing, and heading towards the Great Hall for lunch. She had rushed out of Charms when the bell rang so suddenly she was sure Professor Flitwick must have thought she had some sort of urgent stomach problem to attend to, but she had wanted to catch Severus before he made it to the Great Hall. She had spotted him down in the Entrance Hall, but, unfortunately, his head of oily black hair was now retreating from her quite rapidly, in the opposite direction from lunch, and up the marble staircase.

"_Sev! Oof, _excuse me," Lily said, as she almost took out a second year with her bag. Holding onto it more tightly, she squeezed between more students – but she could already see Severus disappearing around a corner at the top of the staircase, where there were at least three more staircases, one of which moved every few minutes. She would never catch him.

Lily slowed her press against the tide, standing in the middle of the marble staircase, watching the corner around which Severus had disappeared. She could absolutely understand his reluctance to go to lunch – if either of her classes that morning were anything to go by, all anyone wanted to talk about was how James Potter had saved him. Lily's fear had risen that morning when Potter had not been in History of Magic, but she had gone up to the Hospital Wing at break, and there had only been one occupied bed, with the curtains drawn, and Madam Pomfrey had told her quite curtly that it did not belong to Severus. Lily's relief was short-lived, however, because she knew that Severus would still be feeling miserable and humiliated. That was the main reason she had rushed to find him as soon as possible: to let him know that she didn't think any less of him; to reassure him that people were bound to forget all about it sooner or later.

The only problem, evidently, was that Severus did not want to talk to her_. _For there was no doubt he had seen her: his black eyes had met hers in the Entrance Hall, widened, and then he had taken off at the rate of knots in the opposite direction.

But why was he avoiding _her_? Lily stood still, letting the other students push past her. She had thought he'd be keen to ensure that she, of all people, had the record straight. If it were not true, an embarrassing story like this, he'd want to ensure she _knew_ it wasn't true.

_Which only leads to one conclusion…_

But there was nothing she could do about it. Sighing, trying to shrug off the hurt that Severus had spurned her so badly, Lily finally gave into the pressing crowd and walked back down the marble staircase to lunch, vaguely wondering, if the story were indeed true, what that said about James Potter.

* * *

It had been Severus's worst day ever at Hogwarts – almost enough to make him wish he was at home, and that was saying something considerable.

Whispers and giggles had followed him everywhere all day: all anyone seemed able to talk about was Potter and his heroism. Several times Severus had been on the brink of cursing whichever gossiping students happened to be nearest – once he actually got halfway to drawing his wand – before he remembered that, however unfair it might be, one wrong move would mean expulsion.

Still, he'd got some satisfaction from turning Avery's prized crested cloak to dust using the Reductor Curse after he and Jugson had engaged in a particularly funny – Severus didn't think – reenactment of Potter saving him. It was galling, the way even his dorm mates seemed convinced that Severus had been helpless, that he had been foolish enough to put himself in harm's way, that Potter had done the decent thing by saving him. Severus was no fool. He knew why they thought that way: because Potter was a pureblood; because his dorm mates had never respected him the way they respected Potter, animosity or no.

It made Severus long for Lily's company – the simplicity of friendship without pureblood politics – and he was convinced that she, at least, would see how ridiculous the whole story was. But when he had seen her weaving towards him at lunch, he had found his throat dry, his heart beating faster, and he found that he was not ready to face her. He needed time to collect himself, to work out what he would say to her. He found himself contemplating this as he sat in Transfiguration, his final lesson of the day. He could not tell Lily outright about Lupin. But he had dropped enough hints before – perhaps he could lead her to the answer… show her that Potter and his friends had clearly cooked up this plot to humiliate Severus.

But not tonight. The day had been too draining. Severus just wanted to be by himself until curfew, to nurse his tattered pride in peace, and perhaps dwell on all the curses he'd like to use on Potter when he next saw him….

But as the bell rang, and everyone stood to pack their bags and leave, Professor McGonagall's voice floated over the low-level chat:

"Snape – a word, please, before you go."

Internally swearing, and praying to Merlin that his House mates would not hang around outside waiting for him, Severus trudged over to Professor McGonagall's desk, dragging his bag onto his shoulder. She made him wait, red and fuming, until she had finished organising the stacks of parchment on her desk and the door had closed behind the last straggling student.

"The Headmaster has asked me to suggest that now may be a prudent time to visit the Hospital Wing," she said at last, raising her piercing gaze to meet his.

"Why would I do that?" Severus asked, blindsided for a moment.

"To apologise to Remus Lupin," said the Deputy Headmistress sharply, as if she considered it appalling that he had forgotten. But was it surprising that, in the midst of everything that day, Severus _had _forgotten about apologising to a monster that had tried to kill him? For a few seconds, Severus could only eye Professor McGonagall angrily.

"Does it need to be now?" he forced out at last.

"I see no reason why it shouldn't be," Professor McGonagall replied coolly. "Quite the contrary: doing it now will give you the rest of the evening to begin your OWL revision. And if today's performance is anything to go by, your Transfiguration is quite in need of it."

It was quite literally the last straw – the only reason he hadn't managed the stupid Vanishing spell was because he was preoccupied by that day's gossip, which had certainly not been _his _fault! Why wasn't she apologising for the humiliation Severus had suffered that day? Abruptly, he muttered a "Yes, Professor" between gritted teeth, before he turned away, ready to leave.

"Oh, and Snape," said Professor McGonagall's voice as he reached the door, "the Headmaster _will _know if you haven't been to the Hospital Wing, so for once try to do the right thing, won't you?"

If she had not been his teacher, Severus surely would have turned and cursed her on the spot. As it was, he merely yanked open the door and slammed it shut behind him.

Thankfully, his dorm mates were not waiting for him – perhaps bored of teasing him and prodding him for information – and so Severus was left to stalk to the Hospital Wing in a rage by himself.

When he arrived, it was not difficult to spot Lupin's bed: it was the only one occupied, closest to the window at the far end, the curtains closed around it. For a second, Severus considered leaving – surely Lupin would not dare to tell Dumbledore that he hadn't been? – but then Madam Pomfrey stepped out of her office and saw him.

"Snape," she said, eying him suspiciously, "what can I do for you?"

Perhaps it was that her tone was full of dislike – were _none _of the teachers on his side? – but Severus found himself saying rather savagely, "I've got permission to visit Lupin from Dumbledore."

"_Professor _Dumbledore," Madam Pomfrey said with a sniff, but there was not much she could do, other than to say briskly: "Far end of the ward. No upsetting him, please."

_No upsetting him, indeed, _thought Severus with an inward snarl, but he set off in the direction to which Madam Pomfrey gestured, and slipped between the closed curtains.

Lupin visibly jerked at the sight of him, his spine snapping straight from the slumped position he'd been in so suddenly that he winced, his hand going to the bandages on his neck. He looked awful, Severus noted with savage satisfaction – drawn and ill, with dark circles under his eyes and bandages everywhere. It was difficult, now, to remember the horrific monster Lupin had been the previous night: he didn't look capable of hexing a hamster. His pale green eyes were full of apprehension as he regarded his classmate.

"Severus – " he started.

"Funny," Severus interrupted. "That's not what you and your friends usually choose to call me."

"I've never done that," said Lupin quietly. He looked wretched. "Look, _please – _I never meant to – I wouldn't have – "

"Give it a rest_," _Snape spat. "I know you were in on this plot to kill me, _werewolf."_

"_Sssh," _the Gryffindor begged. "_Please. _I didn't know; I'm sorry – "

"It should be _him _apologising; not you.".

Severus almost snarled again as he turned to see who had made the interruption. Of course, it would be _Potter, _who had evidently slipped silently through the curtain behind Severus without him hearing. Pettigrew hovered nervously behind. They, too, must have just finished their final class of the day, and had come up to check on Lupin. Potter eyed him with every sign of immense dislike.

"James," Lupin started.

"No, Remus," Potter interrupted. His gaze didn't leave Severus. "None of this would've happened if _he _hadn't been so mad keen to find out where you were. He knew perfectly well what he'd find down there. But he decided to ignore it and put all our lives at risk."

"All _your _lives at risk?" Severus demanded incredulously, so loudly that Pettigrew stuck his head around the curtain – presumably to check that no one was there. "_You _lot tried to kill me – "

"Oh, give me a break, Snape," said Potter. "You're seriously hanging onto this barking idea that I'd put myself in danger if I wanted to see you dead?"

"James, _don't," _Lupin moaned.

"He's _got _to apologise Remus; Dumbledore said so."

_Dumbledore. _Severus had been losing the will to apologise with every passing second spent in the company of Lupin's and Potter, but the Headmaster's name reminded him forcefully of why he was there in the first place. Dumbledore had said he had to. And he'd also made it clear how close Severus was to expulsion. He really had no choice. Not bothering to hide a grimace, he turned back to Lupin.

"No," said Lupin immediately. "No, you've not got to apologise – it should be _me _apologising – "

"You're right; it should," Severus bit out.

"That's not what Dumbledore thinks," Potter cut in. Severus had never been so close to hitting Potter – Merlin, he _hated _him, with his air of superiority and his way of seeking to humiliate Severus at every opportunity.

"I _apologise_, Lupin," he said, each word feeling as though he might choke on it. Lupin's eyes pleaded with him, but Severus ignored him, turning back to Potter.

"You'll pay for this," he spat.

"Just try it, Snape," Potter said. "If you tell, you'll be expelled."

He was playing it cool, and Severus loathed him for it. "Funny how you can be so sure. What makes you think I care?" To his savage satisfaction, uncertainty flickered in Potter's face; Severus seized on it. "Maybe," he continued, his voice almost a hiss again, "I'll consider it worth it just to see the lot of you expelled with me."

Potter's face drained of colour. Satisfied, Severus tried to brush past him to leave, but Potter's hand shot out and caught his robes.

"If you tell, I'll get you back for it. I swear."

"If you think a threat from _you _is going to keep me quiet, Potter, you really are more arrogant than I thought." Severus struggled to release Potter's grip on him, but Potter let go of him very suddenly, his head dropping, defeat screaming in his posture. Severus had never seen Potter so submissive; he'd never felt more powerful. Humiliated he might be; the whole school might be laughing at him; but here was one place he had agency, he possessed the utmost power. The thought almost made him a little giddy: never had his relationship with Potter been so unbalanced.

"Don't you forget it," he hissed, before he pushed past Potter and Pettigrew and left the Hospital Wing.

* * *

For a second nobody spoke. Then:

"Are you _trying _to make him tell the whole school?" Remus burst out.

James's head jerked up warily. He was still feeling slightly shaken at Snape's threat – and it seemed that Remus felt no better about it. But Remus's tone – the same as he had used to accuse James of helping to engineer this disaster earlier that day – put him on edge, making him feel defensive.

"He knew he had to," he said, trying to keep his voice even. "Dumbledore made Sirius apologise to Snape, and he said Snape had to apologise to you."

"You didn't have to humiliate him over it, did you?" Remus snapped.

"I wasn't – "

But a quick glance at Peter, who gave James a short shake of the head, made James fall silent. Remus needed to take it out on someone. He wouldn't have had the heart to take it out on Peter, and Sirius was, so far, nowhere to be seen. That only left James.

"I didn't even _want _him to apologise." Remus drew his knees up, balling the sheet up with his fist.

"He _should _apologise," said James before he could help himself. "If it weren't for him sticking his nose in – "

"I should have guessed you'd stick up for Black," said Remus bitterly. James nearly started at the cold use of Sirius's surname, but forced himself not to – he'd only be proving Remus's point.

"I'm not sticking up for him," he said, trying to stay calm. "But _whatever_ you think, Snape only listened to Sirius because he wanted to get you expelled. He owed you an apology."

Remus said nothing. Peter looked anxiously between him and James, who also remained silent.

"Has…er….Sirius been up to see you at all?" Peter eventually ventured. Remus's face darkened and James's heart sank; it was somehow worse that Sirius had not even tried to speak to Remus; that he had deliberately avoided him, as though he'd done nothing wrong. But, then, Sirius had equally avoided James and Peter all day – though they'd had all the same classes, he'd sat apart from them, his gaze impassive and cool. Aside from that, he looked no different from normal: he had somehow managed to ride the last twenty-four hours well. James resented him for all of it; for being able to look so casual, for not getting the sort of hounding James had got that day; for not even trying to apologise, as though he already regarded them as a lost cause.

Thinking about Sirius made James feel slightly ill.

"Did Dumbledore visit?" he asked, more to have something to talk about other than Sirius.

"No," said Remus, and he suddenly looked more wretched than angry. "McGonagall came up earlier – said Dumbledore was busy today and could I see him in his office tomorrow."

"He won't expel you," said James immediately, guessing why Remus looked so upset. "Honestly, he won't. He really wants you to stay at Hogwarts."

"It's not that," Remus murmured, but he didn't say anything more. James and Peter shared another glance, and James opened his mouth, but Remus suddenly blurted out: "I'm going home for Easter." James started, blinking, but Remus determinedly avoided his gaze. "McGonagall came by earlier, and asked if I wanted to. I said yes."

"But we never go home for Easter," said James, who could think of nothing else to say. None of them had gone home for Easter in five years – mainly as a show of solidarity to both Sirius and Remus, neither of whom were usually keen to leave Hogwarts unless they had to.

But Remus had closed his eyes. "There is no 'we' anymore, James," he said, and he sounded so weary that James didn't have the heart to argue.

* * *

"Do you think McGonagall will let us go home too?" Peter was whispering urgently as they sat in evening study later, pretending to do their homework. "It's just my mum really wanted me to go home, and I said no because we always stay at Easter, but if Remus is going…"

"I expect she'll let you go if you want, Pete," said James wearily. He was getting another headache – it had been brewing since he'd encountered Snape in the Hospital Wing. He was vaguely aware that he should be persuading Peter to stay for the holidays; he had no choice, as his parents were off looking at the ancient remains of an ancient wizarding civilisation in Peru, and James would rather haved scraped out Slughorn's supply of frog guts with his fingernails than spend two weeks looking at ruins. But he could not quite bring himself to argue with Peter to stay with him; it was as though all the energy had been sucked out of him by the day, and even now he was acutely aware of the number of conversations going on around him that featured him and Snape.

His gaze wandered down the Gryffindor table, and he saw at least half a dozen people look away immediately. His insides twisted. That day had been bad enough for him, but Remus would be horrified when he found out how much people knew; James had not yet summoned up the guts to tell him, and when Peter had tried earlier, James had nudged him in the ribs rather hastily. He found himself wishing badly, all of a sudden, he could go home. He had never felt like that before.

His gaze shifted and fell, all of a sudden, on Lily Evans. Her head was turned, her eyes on the Slytherin table, on a figure that was sitting alone, his greasy hair bent low over his parchment. James found himself wondering what she thought about all this, but all of a sudden her head turned and their eyes met. She didn't look away as the other students had, although a faint blush crept into her cheeks. Before James knew what he was doing, his hand had risen, self-consciously, to his hair.

"I think I'll go and ask her now," said Peter next to him, and James was brought brutally back to reality. He barely had time to nod mutely before Peter took himself off towards the front of the room. It wouldn't be so bad, James tried to tell himself, but he was starting to feel a little sick. The whispering around him seemed to be roaring in his ears. He couldn't stand it any more. Watching as Peter started talking to Professor McGonagall, James snatched his belongings and fled from the room, gambling that his Head of House wouldn't notice; or if she did, she wouldn't punish him so close to the holidays.

Down the corridor, James paused, running a hand through his hair and breathing heavily. He had never felt like this – so wracked with guilt and confusion, and so _alone. _Dropping his bag on the floor, he leaned back against the stone wall, covering his face with his hands, trying to get a grip on himself. He should've asked Peter to stay for the holidays. Why hadn't he just _said?_

"Penny for your thoughts?"

James started at the voice, but he recognised it immediately – he dropped his hands and straightened up abruptly to see Lily Evans standing a short distance away. She was clutching her Potions textbook to her chest, her bag slung over her shoulder, as she watched him. He felt stupid for having been caught so obviously having some sort of breakdown, and he hoped she didn't think he'd been crying.

He opened his mouth to say something clever – hopefully – about Prefects and skiving evening study but all that came out was: "What's a penny?"

"Muggle money," Lily replied. She looked vaguely amused as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's sort of a saying…when someone's thinking deeply and you ask if they want to share."

"Right." James's headache was worsening; it seemed he did not even have energy for Lily Evans today. "Sorry, I…I just sort of want to be alone."

"Right," said Lily, but she didn't move. James eyed her warily; she was chewing her lip.

"Did you really save him?" she suddenly blurted out, and looked immediately like she regretted it.

At least three dozen people had asked James that day whether the rumours were true, but it was somehow different when it was Lily Evans. Perhaps it was the way she looked apprehensive rather than excited about the gossip; perhaps it was simply the way the torches in the corridor made her hair glint copper in a way that confused James's already muddled thoughts further. It occurred to him that he could make a very great deal of this; that he could tell her exactly what had happened; how he had saved the life of her precious friend, who had repaid him by trying to kill him. But he thought about doing it – about twisting Sirius's betrayal and Remus's secret to his advantage – and he felt sick again.

"I don't really want to talk about it," he muttered at last, unable even to make light of it, or to sound apologetic for how moody he was being. He didn't look at her, aware that she would, most probably, feel slighted by his rebuff. He kept his eyes trained on the ground at his feet.

But he was suddenly aware of movement: of her leaning close so that her long hair tickled his neck and he could feel her light breath across his face.

"It was a really decent thing to do," she murmured, before her lips made contact with his cheek in a soft kiss.

James's head snapped around, but she was already walking away, her red curls bouncing slightly as she headed down the corridor, towards Gryffindor Tower. He could still feel the spot where her lips had made contact with his skin.

_The whole world's gone stark raving mad, _he thought. _Totally bonkers. _

But for the first time in twenty-four hours, James's shoulders didn't feel quite so heavy.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks hugely to all those who reviewed – reading your positive words really is a great motivator when I'm stuck. Chapter 12 is very nearly complete, so I hope to get that out very soon too. **


	13. War On All Fronts

**Disclaimer: **Everything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**A/N: **Gosh, it's been another long wait. I am so sorry. The great news is, however, that I just spent a whole week writing and am now well ahead, so you shouldn't have to suffer such a long wait for the next few. Again, my apologies; this was difficult to get right.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: War On All Fronts**

**16****th**** April 1976**

He might have been able to go home for Easter, and get away from it all, but the worst part by far about that, Remus thought, was that he had to face Dumbledore sooner rather than later.

The prospect weighed heavily on his shoulders the afternoon of the next day, as Madam Pomfrey gave him one final check before she released him. She didn't like to let him go, he could tell. She never did – if he had been any other student, she would have kept him in for at least a week, the sort of toll the transformations had on his health – but it would have raised too much suspicion to keep him in longer than a day or two, and, anyway, on this occasion, despite the fact that this had been the worst in a very long time, he needed to be ready to take the Hogwarts Express the next day. And before that, Dumbledore had requested that Remus stop by his office.

Remus knew he was lucky, really, not to have had to speak to Dumbledore the previous day; he had dreaded it all afternoon, until Professor McGonagall had come to tell him that Dumbledore was unfortunately caught up in Ministry-related business and would be unable to see him that day. It was, perhaps, just as well; Remus had been a mess the day before. The devastating revelation of what he might have done to Snape and James, the knowledge that it was Sirius – _Sirius _– who had orchestrated it all, who hated Remus more than Remus would have imagined possible, after everything, had pulled Remus's emotions in all directions, ranging from disbelief, to hurt, to uncontrollable anger, to hurt and betrayal. If he couldn't stop himself snapping at James – the one who had saved him from becoming a murderer – he did not trust that he would have been able to trust himself around anyone else, even Albus Dumbledore.

Today, after a long night of lying awake, Remus felt only numbness. As Madam Pomfrey took his temperature, clicked her tongue, and bustled away into her office, Remus merely sat on the edge of the bed, fully dressed, looking listlessly around the Hospital Wing, and feeling an odd sort of detachment from it all.

_Sirius had betrayed him…_

It was incomprehensible; unbelievable. Sirius had been one of his closest friends for five years: he had been just as supportive about his lycanthropy as James and Peter; just as insistent that they would succeed at becoming Animagi; had seemed just as relieved and excited that they had managed it, that they would finally be able to make things easier for Remus every month.

And it had all been a lie…

That was the only conclusion Remus could possibly come to – that Sirius had never liked him, had only pretended, and he had chosen now to show his true colours. Thinking about it now, something sharp and painful cut through the numbness at the knowledge that Sirius despised him so greatly, but Remus let the pain wash over him. He needed to get used to it. But he was aware that all this was precisely the reason he had kept snapping at James the day before – he was on the defensive now, anticipating another betrayal: because James and Sirius had behaved the same way for five years, and if it had transpired that Sirius hated him, James had to be next…

But Remus already knew he was being unfair. James and Sirius did everything together, but when it had mattered, when the crunch had come, Sirius had turned on Remus and James had refused to do the same.

"You're free to go, I suppose," said the school nurse, coming back out of her office, carrying a small box of vials. Her clipped tones told Remus exactly what she thought about having to let him out of her care.

"Thank you," he said quietly. There was much more he ought to say to the school nurse, who spent every month patching him up without judgement or complaint, but somehow, today, the words wouldn't come. He stood up, straightening his school uniform, although he had no real intention of going to classes – it was already halfway through the final double period. Madam Pomfrey had put down her box and was sorting through the potions, but as Remus turned away, she suddenly pressed something into his hand. When Remus looked down, he saw it was a vial labelled Dreamless Sleep Potion.

"Make sure you get some rest," the school nurse told him, her voice softer than usual.

A lump in his throat at this unexpected kindness, Remus could only nod and pocket the potion as he turned away and left the Hospital Wing.

The corridors were deserted – as one would expect them to be, at that time on a Friday afternoon – and Remus preferred it that way. He needed time to order his thoughts before he saw Dumbledore. Dread was beginning to seep through the numbness he was feeling again. He did not feel he could face the Headmaster. James had promised that Dumbledore was not going to expel him, but it had probably not occurred to him that Remus was, at least, partly to blame for all this. Remus had broken his promise to Dumbledore – namely, that he would tell no one of his condition, nor of the Willow – and two people had nearly died as a result. Remus now had to face Dumbledore and confront the fact that he had badly let the Headmaster down – a Headmaster who had done more for them than anyone else would have.

He had made it to the stone gargoyle outside Dumbledore's office, but he now felt sick. Remus put his hand in his left pocket and felt cold metal there. He was aware that he was being a coward – but he still did not move to give the password that Professor McGonagall had given him the day before. This was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. Dumbledore's disappointment would be too much for him.

Just as Remus was wondering if there might be any way to get out of this, however, the stone gargoyle suddenly, inexplicably, stepped aside, revealing a spiral staircase. Remus looked at it for a moment, wary, but realising that he now had little choice, he stepped onto the first stair that would lead him up to the Headmaster's office.

The oak door at the top was already open, as if Dumbledore knew how much he was dreading this meeting, and did not wish to give him any further opportunity to avoid it. As Remus stepped off the staircase, he caught a glimpse of Dumbledore at his desk, his head bowed slightly over something. Cautiously, not wishing to disturb the Headmaster, Remus knocked on the door. Dumbledore raised his head. To Remus's surprise, his expression cleared immediately; he Vanished the parchment in front of him; and, as Remus stepped into the office, the Headmaster waved his hand and the oak door clicked shut behind him.

"Ah, Remus," said Dumbledore pleasantly. "Do take a seat, won't you? And will you have a pear drop? They're a most excellent Muggle sweet, if you haven't had one before."

Remus just blinked at him for several seconds, struggling not to let his mouth fall open, as Dumbledore smiled back, holding out a jar full of pink sweets and gesturing to the seat opposite him. At last Remus recovered himself, and took the seat indicated to him.

"A pear drop?" Dumbledore said again.

"No, thank you," said Remus quietly. "They're my mother's favourite, though." He was staring at his lap, rather than at the Headmaster, and instantly regretted having brought up the subject of his mother. He knew Dumbledore had spoken to his parents – Professor McGonagall had told him as much the day before, when she had said that his mother was concerned and had asked if he would like to go home for the holidays – but Remus had not written to his parents personally, and the thought of them made his stomach churn with guilt. They had worked so hard for so long to keep his secret under wraps; they had worried about him coming to Hogwarts; and now their worst fears had been realised.

Dumbledore examined him for several seconds, before he replaced the jar of sweets on his desk. Remus watched him silently. His heart seemed to be roaring in his ears.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out. Dumbledore's gaze lifted from the jar, but Remus felt too overwrought to analyse his expression. "You should expel me," he said desperately, before he could stop himself. The words felt bitter on his tongue, but it was somehow a relief to voice the thought that had been plaguing him for the last twenty-four hours.

To his shock, Dumbledore only lifted his eyebrows. "Do you really think so?" His tone was mild. "I tend towards punishing only those who have done something wrong." The corners of his mouth were twitching slightly; Remus stared at him in disbelief.

"I told people about the Willow," he said. "I told my friends what I am. And I – I nearly killed two people – "

"Because they were foolish enough to put themselves in harm's way," said Dumbledore gently.

"Because one of my best friends betrayed me," said Remus, unable to stop the bitterness from creeping back into his voice. Dumbledore's expression was a mixture of sadness and pity, and Remus could hardly stand it. "I'm sorry," he choked out, hating himself for his weakness. "When you let me in, I swore I wouldn't tell anyone."

"No one can go through their lives without friends," said Dumbledore. "It would be a very lonely life indeed. In any case, I rather had the sense that Misters Potter, Black and Pettigrew had a tendency to discover even the most well-hidden of secrets."

Dumbledore's tone was friendly, but he said it with the air of someone who knew a great deal. Remus's stomach twisted painfully. Suddenly all the antics he and his friends had got up to at school – sneaking out through the castle's secret passages, pranking the Slytherin Common Room and generally causing mischief and mayhem – seemed less funny, and more like a further betrayal of Dumbledore's trust, a misuse of the opportunities the Headmaster had given him.

"I understand you must be feeling guilty, Remus." Remus could feel Dumbledore's gaze on him. "But this is not your fault."

It was somehow worse that Dumbledore seemed determined to treat him as an innocent party. He wasn't. And he knew that if Dumbledore knew the extent of it, he wouldn't be so nice. Remus would be expelled immediately. Because, really, telling his friends about his lycanthropy was the least of it. He had allowed the three of them – even helped them – to attempt dangerous magic that now permitted them to accompany him at full moons. It went beyond a misuse of Dumbledore's trust; it was a flagrant, reckless demonstration of the utmost disrespect, to have allowed three illegal Animagi to run around Hogwarts on his account. Remus dipped his head lower, not trusting himself to speak.

Instead, wordlessly, he drew out the metal object from his left pocket and placed it on Dumbledore's desk. The silver Prefect's badge glinted innocently in the sunlight that streamed from the window.

Dumbledore did not gaze at it for more than a few seconds before he looked at Remus again.

"You no longer wish to be a Prefect?"

"I don't deserve it," Remus muttered. "I don't have influence over anyone."

"I see. And whom do you suggest I appoint in your place?"

Remus said nothing. Dumbledore clasped his hands in front of him.

"Remus," he said quietly, "I appointed you Prefect this year knowing that you had conveyed your condition to your friends. I did not consider it a good reason not to appoint you; and equally I considered that there were a myriad of reasons why I should. Please do not insult me by attempting to return that badge to me at this juncture."

There was nothing Remus could say to that. Wordlessly, he picked the badge up again, but he did not pin it to his uniform.

"I did not call you here to expel you, or to remove your badge," said Dumbledore.

He paused. He was silent, for so long, in fact, that Remus, at last, hesitantly raised his head. Dumbledore was watching him, his bright blue gaze steady.

"I wanted to ask you," said the Headmaster evenly, "whether you thought there was anything else of which I should be made aware. If so, I would be only too glad to hear it."

Remus was sure his heart stopped for a second. Then it exploded, thudding madly against his rib cage.

Did Dumbledore _know _what Remus was hiding?Remus was desperate to look away, but he knew it would give him away in an instant; instead, he held Dumbledore's gaze, trying hard to look as if he had no idea what Dumbledore could be talking about. Dumbledore was watching him calmly. He did not look angry; and Remus realised that the Headmaster did not know: he only wanted to ensure everything was wrapped up neatly – that there were no loose and dangerous threads. Remus drew a deep breath, trying to calm his heart rate, but bile was rising in his throat. Dumbledore did not know, but he wanted Remus to tell him, and he could not imagine, whatever Dumbledore said, that the Headmaster would be glad to hear of some of the things Remus could tell him. But he _couldn't: _not only would it land his friends in trouble – trouble they had landed themselves in for his sake – he knew he could not confess to Dumbledore what he had done with the trust the Headmaster had placed in him. Sharing his secret Dumbledore might forgive; but Remus did not think he could bear to see the disappointment in those blue eyes as he confessed how badly he had led his friends astray.

"N-no, sir," he choked out. "There's nothing else you should know."

"Very well." Dumbledore sat back in his seat. If he was disappointed with Remus's refusal to convey anything, he did not show it. "Then I have nothing further to add but my wishes for a pleasant holiday."

It was evidently a dismissal of the most polite sort. For a moment, Remus did not move, conscious that he was getting off a thousand times more lightly than he deserved. But Dumbledore's gaze was upon him again and, suddenly afraid that the Headmaster would be able to see straight through him, Remus stammered his thanks and fled, feeling as though if he never set foot in the Headmaster's office again, it would be too soon.

* * *

Sirius was first back to the dormitory after Potions, more than anything else to avoid James and Peter, whom he had heard planning a trip to the kitchens during their last period of the day. Staring at the back of their heads for two hours had been torture, and so distracting that Marlene McKinnon, who was a veritable disaster when it came to Potions, had been allowed to reduce their shared cauldron to a stinking, congealed mess before Sirius had realised what was happening.

"Are you thick, McKinnon?" he had yelped, jumping backwards as boiling liquid ran over the desk.

"Well, if you'd been helping instead of staring at your best friend for the last hour," she had said angrily, her blue eyes flashing.

Sirius considered this so offensive, he had not spoken to her for the rest of the lesson, and, annoyed, she had turned around to help Lily Evans and Alice Hornwick behind them instead, leaving Sirius to brood moodily over the two individuals sitting at the desk in front of him. He had not believed that they could keep this up – James in particular had a limited attention span. But that morning in the dormitory, James had ignored him entirely, and Peter, shooting Sirius awkward, apologetic glances, had followed in his wake. In Arithmancy and double History of Magic, they had sat together, apart from Sirius, heads bent together whispering, or else apparently getting on with their work. James, Sirius had noticed, did not actually write much down – indeed, when he wasn't talking to Peter, he seemed to spend most of his lessons just staring into space – but he did not look at Sirius, and that was what was so frustrating.

By the end of double Potions, Sirius had had enough: he wanted to be alone. He'd legged it out of class, overtaking even Snape, who seemed determined to put as much distance between himself and the fruitless calls of Lily Evans as possible. On any normal day, Sirius might have been tempted to throw a trip jinx in Snape's way, but it was somehow less funny when James wasn't around to laugh at it, and, anyway, he found that day he wanted nothing to do with Snape, whose fault all this had been.

He dropped his bag on the floor as soon as he entered the dormitory, and stalked over to the window, which he threw open. The air was cool, but the sun was still shining, its rays on the windowsill giving an unexpected warmth. Sirius hoisted himself up and swung his legs over, letting one leg dangle off the edge and drawing the other into his chest. His chin rested on his knee as he stared moodily out over the grounds. He hoped James and Peter would take their time in the kitchens. He didn't want to see James's judgmental expression, and he couldn't stand Peter's nervousness a minute more that day.

He just hadn't considered the possibility that they might _never _talk to him again. A week – even two, at a pinch – he could have handled. But not this. Not the possibility of eternity.

Merlin. Sirius lifted his head slightly to let the cool April air brush across his face. He had never been this…_alone._

Before he'd come to Hogwarts, no matter how many times he felt that prickling anxiety that something wasn't quite right, he had been a Black. They had loved him, in their own, perverted way: he was the heir to the family, and he was going to do them all proud. He had _belonged. _

Then he had met James Potter on the train to Hogwarts, and it had struck him, even through his haughtiness and arrogance, that he had never met someone so brilliant, and he wanted to be friends with this boy. Hours later, he was sitting in the Great Hall with the Sorting Hat on his head, when the thought 'Gryffindor', unbidden, had popped into his head.

And since then, he had _been _a Gryffindor. All his friends were Gryffindors – he was not one of those people, like Lily Evans seemed to be, who had friends in every House. Better yet, he had been a Marauder: a tight-knit group of four friends who could not be separated by any means.

Except, apparently, him. And now he didn't bloody belong _anywhere_, because it was he was _not _like his family, whatever James said, and it was becoming painfully obvious that James no longer considered him to be a Marauder, so where did that leave him?

Head in his hands, Sirius tried to remind himself of why he had done it in the first place. _For Remus, to protect Remus._ And even if that had turned out to be naïve and stupid, that ought to make all the difference. But after two days of the silent treatment from James and Peter, staring out at the vast grounds, completely alone, Sirius was seized by crippling self-doubt.

"Don't do it."

It was probably the voice he had least expected in the whole world, but perhaps he shouldn't have. Remus had never stayed in the Hospital Wing for more than two days after the full moon; and Sirius knew perfectly well that the first thing Remus usually did was come up to the dorm to shower and sleep.

"I'm not going to jump," he said evenly. "I'm not a fucking coward."

"Good. I'll leave you to it, then."

"Don't!"

Sirius twisted so fast he nearly lost his balance; Remus lurched forwards as Sirius grabbed hold of the stone ledge. As Sirius eased himself back onto the window sill, however, Remus took a step backwards, and turned abruptly away. To Sirius's surprise, he reached under his bed and pulled out his trunk, throwing it onto the mattress. He forced it open and started to throw things into it. Sirius simply stared, his heart hammering.

"Dumbledore said he wasn't expelling you."

Remus ignored him; Sirius continued to watch him, panic making his throat tight, but then Remus straightened up and shut a few jumpers away in his bedside locker.

"You're going home for the holidays?" Sirius asked, surprised.

"I don't want to talk to you, Sirius," Remus said. His voice was tight, as though he was struggling to keep his temper in check. "Didn't James pass on the message?"

"James isn't speaking to me."

Sirius twisted round and jumped down from the window, but he didn't dare go any closer to Remus, whose posture had stiffened at the sound of Sirius's landing.

"So that's why you're trying to make it up with me, is it? So James will speak to you?"

"No," said Sirius, stung. Not speaking to James felt desperately lonely, but what Sirius really wanted was to have all of his friends back – the four of them together again – so that he could reassure himself that what he had done was acceptable, forgivable.

"Go away, Sirius," said Remus, and he continued packing as if Sirius had already left. But it was so grossly unfair, Sirius thought, because _none _of them were allowing him to explain himself: James refused to see past the words _murder _and _betrayal; _Dumbledore had made him lie and had declined to hear the full story, his mind already made up; and now Remus, the person for whom Sirius had done it all, wanted nothing to do with him.

"You haven't even let me tell you why I did it," he said. "Snape – "

"_Why you did it_?" Remus's usually calm voice was full of disbelief. "Sirius, if I thought there was _any _good reason for it, I would've asked you! But I haven't, because there _isn't_."

"He deserved it!" The words burst forth from Sirius's mouth almost before he had a chance to formulate them properly in his head, but Remus had turned around to look at him, his expression incredulous.

"You think _anyone _deserves to be bitten by a werewolf?" he asked, his voice quiet. "After all these years, haven't I made you understand how awful it is?"

The disappointment was rolling off him in waves, and it was almost worse than anger, but Sirius gritted his teeth against it. "You don't understand," he said. "I thought if I – "

"I know what you thought, Sirius," Remus snapped, and he turned away from Sirius abruptly. "You thought you'd use me to get rid of Snape."

"It wasn't like that," said Sirius stoutly. "If you'd just listen – "

"Don't you get it?" Remus asked, whirling around again, and Sirius started as he saw, with some disconcertion, that Remus's wand was out, and it was pointing straight at him. He was pale, and shaking slightly. "I don't want to hear anything that you've got to say, ever again. You don't understand – "

"Oh, of course I don't," Sirius snarled. The frustration of the last forty-eight hours was beginning to get to him; looking at Remus's pained, angry face was making it worse. "No one understands poor, misunderstood Remus Lupin, do they? No one bothers, do they? It's not like anyone became an Animagus for you, or – "

"Don't taunt me, Sirius," Remus said, his wand still out in front of him. "You didn't become an Animagus for me. You did it for yourself."

"Are – you – mad?" Sirius said loudly, his voice heavy with disbelief. "You think I went through all that for _myself? _I had to hold a Mandrake leaf in my mouth for a _month_."

"I don't care," said Remus, and his voice was louder too. "You tried to turn me into a murderer! I'm _terrified _of biting someone; it's my worst fear, killing someone or turning them when I'm out of control. And you _know _I can't control myself. You…you used me. The worst way you could. Whatever you've said, whatever you've _done, _it's obvious now what you think of me."

Sirius, finally, had been shocked into silence; he merely stared as Remus turned abruptly away; Sirius wasn't sure if this was to compose himself or because he couldn't stand the sight of Sirius any longer. But Sirius understood, now, why Remus was so angry; and it was not a simple case of Sirius having tried to off Snape. But Remus had got it wrong…all horribly wrong…and Sirius's insides were twisting painfully at having made Remus feel like this...

"Moony," he croaked.

Sirius wasn't entirely sure what he'd been about to say. He'd have liked to think, perhaps, some sort of apology, but he knew it wasn't, because he wasn't really sorry for what he'd done, only how Remus had taken it. But whatever it was, Remus did not want to hear it, because Sirius only just got his friend's nickname out before there was a great flash of light, a bang and Sirius felt something hit him forcefully and he was sent flying, landing on his back, feeling an odd, painful sensation in his knees. He tried to get to his feet and his legs collapsed underneath him; with another shoot of pain, he recognised the effects of the kneecap-reversing hex.

Sirius stared at Remus in disbelief. His friend didn't look at him.

"Just leave me alone," Remus said, and turned back to his trunk. "If you try to talk to me again, I swear I'll do worse."

If Remus had even cracked a smile, Sirius would've laughed. He didn't care that Remus had hexed him, even though his knees really were quite painful. His legs probably looked quite funny; they'd done it to Avery, once. But it was impossible to laugh when Remus was so cold, so upset…and Sirius had never imagined that it would be like this.

For the first time, Sirius started to feel the first prickle of something like regret. It might have turned out in the best possible way – at least they had a bit more assurance Snape would stay quiet – but Sirius never would have wished this; he never would have wanted to make Remus feel like this… But staring at Remus's back, the pain in his knees slowly increasing, the regret was replaced almost instantly with anger. This was so bloody _single-minded_, after all they'd been through together. Could Remus not understand why he had done what he did?

"I can't believe this," he said. "He wouldn't have stopped till he'd outed you – "

"He never would have cared if you and James hadn't bullied him all these years!" Remus interrupted loudly. He was breathing hard.

"_Bullied _him? It's Snivellus; he's worse than us! " Sirius wondered if Remus had told James all this. It struck him that if he were James, and had risked his life to save Snape, he'd be quite pissed off to be told that it had been all his fault in the first place. He almost opened his mouth to defend James, but then he remembered James was not speaking to him and he doubted James had been defending _him..._

"Basically, Sirius," Remus said, and his voice was quiet now, "you were prepared to be open-minded and accommodating, but only when it suited you. You should've laid off Snape, but you didn't. You said you saw me like a brother, but you just saw me as a tool to use in your feud with Snape." His expression was closed. "I don't know why I ever trusted you."

Something stirred again in Sirius's stomach but he pushed it away. "Will you just _listen?" _he said impatiently. "Snape was never going to leave you alone. He wanted to get us all expelled – "

"Only because you and James have always wound him up – "

"No, because he's a snivelling shit who hated Prongs from the start and looks for any excuse to get at him!" Sirius argued. "You might've convinced James that laying off Snape would save you, but I know better: Snape wouldn't have left you alone until he'd told everyone and got you expelled. I know you don't like it, but getting rid of Snape was the _only way."_

"But why did it have to be me?" Remus burst out, his tone desperate. "Why did you have to use _me _to get rid of him?"

That gave Sirius reason to pause. The truth was that he had been able to talk himself into the whole thing if Snape got killed looking for a werewolf, because Snape would've deserved it for not having more sense and for sneaking around, trying to find his proof to get them all expelled. And Sirius would still have argued that Snape had it coming. But he could see now, how Remus felt about it, how it looked from Remus's end, and Sirius hated himself for it.

He opened his mouth, really intending an apology this time, but a knock at the door made them both jump. The door cracked open and Lily Evans stuck her head in. She caught sight of Sirius, on the floor, and her eyebrows raised, but she said nothing. Instead, she directed her attention to Remus.

"I saw your name had been added to the going home list," she said. "I thought you might need the book you lent me on Shield Charms over the holidays."

"Oh…yes. Thanks; I'd forgotten." Remus sounded completely detached to Sirius, but if Evans noticed, she said nothing; merely pushed the door open and came in to place the book next to Remus's trunk.

"Um…are you all right? You look upset."

For some reason, this made Sirius irrationally angry; gritting his teeth against the pain, he hauled himself to his feet. Evans spared Sirius a glance, but he pointedly ignored her, hobbling determinedly to the door and out to the staircase. Cursing the fact he did not know the counter-jinx for this particular hex (it had never seemed necessary when they were using it on Slytherins), he started to descend the stairs, grunting in pain, and trying not to look down at his legs, which were bending the wrong way.

"Black! Sirius."

Gripping onto the bannister, Sirius turned to glare at the red-head, who had caught up with him. "What do you want, Evans?" he spat.

His bitter tone did not seem to faze Lily Evans. She merely raised her eyebrows, looking down at his legs.

"I just thought you might want some help to the Hospital Wing," she said.

Sirius eyed her warily. "What, so you can grill me on why perfect Prefect Lupin hexed his dorm mate? No thanks."

Evans's look was cool. "No good cutting off your nose to spite your face, Black. Come on." She took his arm and made to go down the stairs. Sirius stared at her for a second, before he decided that it was going to be a lot easier to get to the Hospital Wing with her help, and, transferring some of his weight to her, continued to hobble down the steps. As they went through the Common Room, a few people looked at them, half-interestedly, but most had better things to do than worry about how Sirius Black had been hexed, and why Lily Evans was helping him.

"Cutting off your face for your nose?" Sirius repeated in disbelief, someway down the corridor from Gryffindor Tower. "What kind of bollocks is that?"

"It's cutting off your nose to spite your face," said Evans, looking a bit exasperated. "What is it with you purebloods and your total ignorance of perfectly normal phrases?"

"_You_ think it's perfectly normal to go around talking about cutting people's noses off," said Sirius darkly. "I reckon I know which one of us is wrong in the head." He hissed as his knee joint locked and unlocked.

"So what _have _you done to get Remus Lupin to hex you?" Evans asked, adjusting her arm underneath him.

"None of your business," said Sirius, rather ruder than he should have been to the person on whom he was currently relying to get him to the Hospital Wing.

"It is anything to do with the fact that James isn't speaking to you?" Evans asked, apparently unbothered.

Sirius glanced at her quickly. "Since when is he _James? OW, _woman – watch it!"

"Oh, sorry," said Evans sweetly, resuming the grip she'd just dropped, quite suddenly, without warning. "I must have slipped."

Feeling that Lily Evans was a bit more trouble than she was worth, Sirius merely grunted, increasing his hobbling speed.

"I'm not James," he said resentfully. "You can't sidle up to me, bat your eyelashes and get me to spill all my secrets."

"I don't _bat my eyelashes_!" said Lily, immediately outraged. Sirius smirked again. She was so easy to set off, like a tightly wound coil.

"You don't fool me, Evans. I know you're a lot more interested in my mate than you like to let on."

Lily said nothing in reply, her chin tilted upwards, as if she considered this such a low blow that it did not deserve a reply. Sirius thought this might have shut her up – in fact, he thought if it had been anyone else, they would have dropped his arm and stalked off, but this was Lily Evans. He felt only the smallest modicum of regret. But then, after several corridors of silence, she said:

"Potter didn't tell me anything."

Sirius _almost _smirked at the fact that James was now back to 'Potter', but he was too edgy about the subject matter.

"Severus won't tell me anything either," she continued. "He's been avoiding me for two days."

"Can't you take a hint, then?" said Sirius irritably.

"Yes, I just choose to ignore them," she said. "So are Potter and Lupin angry over the thing about Severus and the Willow?"

It should not have been surprising that she had put it together: probably the only reason no one else yet had was because they were too busy focusing on the gossip about how James had saved Snape; and because it was nearly the holidays, providing a suitable diversion. But it still caught Sirius by surprise. This would have been bad enough for all this to happen in private – but it was a hundred times worse that everyone was talking about how heroic James had been (how badly Sirius had failed), that he'd had to endure Snape's name echoing around him for two solid days, and that, now, someone had noticed that Sirius's best friends had stopped speaking to him. Ignoring the pain in his knees, he ripped himself away from Evans' hold. She stopped, blinking at him in surprise, but Sirius was too angry to care about hurting Evans' feelings.

"It's none of your business!" he said fiercely. "Just because _your _bloody mate was too nosey for his own good – _why can't girls leave it alone?"_

And, seething in anger, hobbling as fast as his injured knees would allow, Sirius limped away from Lily Evans, leaving her staring after him, a shocked expression on her face.

* * *

"Boys!" Lily said, as she finally spotted Marlene, lounging over a bench in the sun-filled courtyard, apparently revising what looked to be Potions notes, though it looked suspiciously like she was just using them to shade her face from the sun. Lily lifted up Marlene's legs, sat down on the bench, and lay them across the lap. "They are just – so – annoying!"

"Slimy Severus still ignoring you?" said Marlene, with fake sympathy. Lily frowned at her.

"Don't call him that."

Marlene merely shrugged, indifferent. Lily sighed.

"And no – that's not it – although he _is _still avoiding me," she added, remembering how Severus had legged it away from her at the end of Potions, as though a herd of Hippogriffs was after him. "Black was really rude just now."

"Sirius Black?" asked Marlene, bored. "Well, he's got his wand up his backside about the fact that James and Pettigrew are ignoring him, hasn't he?"

"Evidently – but don't mention it, or he'll jump down your throat," Lily advised. She sighed, wondering whether she should tell Marlene about Remus hexing Sirius, decided that she didn't want to draw Marlene's attention to Remus's reappearance, and instead picked up the notes resting in Marlene's lap. "Mar, these are a mess. How on earth do you expect to revise for anything with these?"

"Well, I wasn't really thinking as far ahead as OWLs in third year," said Marlene, sounding distinctly unconcerned. It was difficult, Lily admitted, to be bothered with anything as threatening as exams when the sun was shining so gorgeously after so many weeks of rain. Of course, it would be just in time for the holidays. Lily, like most of her friends, was staying at the castle to study, but if the weather stayed like this, it was going to be difficult to commit herself to the library every day.

"Anyway, I'm pretty much destined to fail Potions," said Marlene airily. "Sluggy's already written me off as a lost cause."

"We'll get you through it," Lily answered, knowing that Potions wasn't Marlene's best subject. "So long as you get me through Herbology."

"Hornwick's your woman for that."

"Where _is _Alice?" Lily wanted to know. Marlene and Alice had declared at the end of Potions that they were going to do a bit of revision outside, but Alice was nowhere to be seen.

"Frank Longbottom accosted her in the Entrance Hall," said Marlene, lowering her notes so she could waggle her eyebrows at Lily. Lily grinned back. Alice's crush on the older boy was _infamous _in their dormitory; and, even though she vehemently denied it, Lily and Marlene had frequently pointed out that Frank Longbottom spent half his time in the Common Room looking at her too.

"What for?"

"Probably asking her if she fancies being Mrs Longbotty to be," said Marlene, with a similar grin. "Just nudged up to her and asked if he could have a 'quick word'. Looked a bit serious, but all boys look like they're about to undergo a round with a Chimera before they ask a girl out, don't they? I mean, what do they think's going to happen? We're going to sprout fangs and breathe fire if we don't fancy them?"

Lily snorted, and helped herself to one of the chocolate frogs sitting next to Marlene's revision notes.

"Anyway, speaking of boys fancying girls," Marlene said, "don't think I didn't notice you following James out of evening study last night."

Caught unawares, Lily choked on her chocolate frog. Marlene patted her on the back, but it didn't do much, since she was too busy cackling.

"All right, Evans, don't kill yourself over it," she said, as Lily finally swallowed, glaring at her.

"I didn't follow James out of evening study," she said, but this just made Marlene smirk again.

"Since when was he _James?"_

"Not you too," Lily moaned. She had tried hard to push James Potter from her mind that day, which was difficult as everyone was still harping on about him having saved Severus. She still wasn't sure exactly what had prompted her to kiss him the evening before, but it hadn't been...exactly unpleasant. She could still smell the hint of pine, the broom polish and something else that made her insides squirm with...well, she didn't care to fully contemplate exactly what. Thinking about it now, she gave herself a mental shake. It had been surprise, that was all – surprise that James Potter had the capacity to behave so maturely. And it had tugged on her heart strings a little to see James Potter – who was always so relentlessly cheerful – looking so despondent. She'd got carried away in the moment.

_That's all, right?_

"So _did_ he save Snape?" Marlene asked, oblivious to Lily's mental struggle, but nonetheless managing to guess exactly why Lily had followed James out of evening study. Lily hesitated for a moment, wondering how to explain that she was becoming more and more sure that it was true without feeling like she was betraying Severus in some way. Luckily at that moment she spotted Alice making her way across the courtyard; grateful for the distraction, she waved at her friend, but Alice didn't smile back. She was clutching something in her hand – a newspaper, Lily realised as Alice approached them.

"How's Longbotty?" Marlene teased, but Alice didn't answer immediately; she stood over them and gestured that they move for her to sit down. Sighing dramatically, Marlene removed her feet from Lily's laps and sat up, shifting to the other side of the bench so that Alice could sit between them. She did so.

"Frank wanted to show me an article that was in the paper this morning," Alice said, and she sounded slightly odd. "Here..."

She opened the paper to the middle, and pointed to a small article that was crammed into the bottom right hand page. There was no picture. Marlene and Lily leaned forward to read.

_Shock murder of pureblood's family_

_In an unforeseen attack that no doubt many will find disturbing, the Astrid family were last night murdered at their home._

_The Dark Mark was found hovering above the residence near Ottery St. Catchpole this morning. The bodies were discovered by the Astrids' neighbour, Mrs Persephone Smith, who immediately alerted the Ministry. Aurors who entered the property confirmed the deaths of Mr Theodore Astrid, his wife Meredith Astrid, and their two young children. _

"_This was a particular brutal one," said one Ministry spokesman, as he stood outside the property. "Whoever did this really wanted to make a point."_

_Mrs Smith was more expansive on the matter. "Oh, it was awful, just awful," she told Daily Prophet reporters. "They'd all been strung up – hung, you know, like common Muggles – and there was blood everywhere; they'd been tortured before they...well..."_

_The murders, and their disturbing nature, will come as a shock to the wizarding community, since the Astrid family was well-known for being pureblood for many generations. Yet Theodore Astrid, the eldest son of Flavius Astrid, caused a stir in certain circles two years ago when he chose to marry Meredith Jones, a Muggle-Born witch, over a pureblood match. It is understood that this caused something of a rift within the family, with Flavius's second son replacing Theodore as the family heir. _

_Whilst the persecution of Muggle Born witches and wizards by a small minority of individuals remains a live issue, hitherto there have been no implications for purebloods who intimately associate themselves with those possessing a Muggle heritage._

"_Just goes to show – blood's no longer enough," one source, who did not wish to be named, told the _Prophet_. "So-called 'blood traitors' can't rely on being pureblood to save them."_

_Flavius Astrid was unavailable for comment._

For a moment, the three of them sat in silence. Then Marlene said, her voice tight:

"Well, it was only a matter of time, wasn't it?"

"Was it?" said Lily blankly. She felt deeply disturbed. It was not as though she didn't know that she was under threat – she knew perfectly well that there was a good section of the wizarding community who did not think she even should have been allowed to come to Hogwarts – but this was somehow different. Purebloods had always been safe. Now they were being targeted for even associating themselves with Muggle Borns...the ideology was so strong that there were people willing to murder purebloods over it...and their _children_...

"My parents wrote to me the other week to say they were worried," said Alice. "They said there had been attacks on Muggle-Borns in the Ministry of Magic – quite senior people, you know? And apparently Frank's dad – you know he's in the Muggle Liaison Office? – said some of the senior members of the department had been threatened, and that the whole office should be shut down.."

"But this is really serious," said Marlene. "There'll be an outcry, a panic – half of pureblood families have married into Muggle ones or they've married Muggle-Borns...what's it doing on..." She checked. "Page eighteen?"

"I asked Frank that," said Alice with a frown. "He said he thought the _Prophet _were probably scared of making too much fuss; that, or the Ministry's forced them to keep a low profile on it."

"In case it does cause panic?" Lily asked.

"Exactly. The Ministry has to be shown to be maintaining an aura of calm, doesn't it? Or everything will be thrown into chaos."

"But why did Frank seek you out to show you?" said Marlene with a frown. Alice glanced at Lily, and suddenly Lily was forcibly reminded of Severus, and his panicked tones a few weeks before.

"_He's a pureblood!"_

"_And what's that got to do with anything?"_

"_People won't like it, you hanging around with a pureblood..."_

"He wanted to warn you," said Lily quietly. "Because you're best friends with me."

"That's outrageous!" said Marlene indignantly. "We're not going to stop being friends with Lily just because – "

"It wasn't like that!" said Alice, and she looked stricken. "He just wanted me to know – he said we should be careful, because there might be some students who see this as a sign they should be doing more against Muggle-Borns; he thinks some people – you know, the ones who are really into blood supremacy – might start trying to attack Muggle Borns. He said we should watch out for Lily. And ourselves, obviously. He said we should make sure we stick together."

"Well, good," said Marlene. "I mean, obviously not the attacks – but if he thinks for one second we'd ditch Lily now – "

"Maybe you should," said Lily. Her voice came out braver than she felt; her words made her feel horrible, but she pressed resolutely on as Alice and Marlene stared at her. "It was different when it was just that people didn't think I ought to be friends with you," she said, thinking of Severus's words. "You weren't in any danger – it was me annoying them. But now you'll get the brunt of it too – "

"Evans, if you say another word I'm going to hex your mouth shut," Marlene interrupted. She exchanged a look with Alice before continuing. "You're our best friend, and I couldn't give a damn if you were a Muggle or the direct descendent of Godric Gryffindor himself; I'd still tell those blood supremacists where they can shove it."

Lily couldn't help but give a small, shaky laugh.

"Maybe I shouldn't have told you," said Alice quietly. "But I thought we should all know, in case... But Marlene's right," she added, suddenly looking much fiercer than Lily was used to, "if anyone tries to start on you _or _us, I'm going to use my best hexes. And I know some really good ones – I've been doing loads of practice for the exams!"

Lily's laugh was stronger this time. She looked at her friends, who stared stubbornly back at her.

"I'm really lucky to have friends like you two," she said.

"Yeah, well, Evans, don't speak too soon," said Marlene. "We're all at risk now – and if they start on me, I fully expect to be able to cower behind you while you use your very best toenail-growing hex..."

"As if you've ever cowered behind anyone," Lily scoffed, but she leaned her head on Alice, who took her hand, and Marlene leaned around to squeeze her, and she felt so thankful for them that she nearly burst into tears.

* * *

It seemed that everyone wanted to seek out Remus before he left for the holidays. Maybe that was unfair, because Peter was now going home too, and needed to pack, but it was difficult to remember this when Peter was lounging on Remus's bed, next to his nearly-full trunk, eating his way through a packet of jelly cauldrons.

"I can't believe you hexed _Sirius. _What'd he do?"

"Went to the Hospital Wing," said Remus shortly. He put a book in his trunk.

"That's James's," said Peter.

James would probably not miss it – Remus harboured a deep suspicion that James would not do any OWL revision over the Easter holidays – but he took it out anyway and replaced it with the book Lily had returned to him earlier.

"Haven't you got packing to do, Peter?" he asked of his friend.

"Probably," Peter agreed cheerfully.

"Where's James?"

At the mention of their dorm mate's name, Peter's mouth pulled down into a frown, and Remus guessed he did not know, and this fact bothered him very much. Peter did not like to be left out. But the reality was, probably, that James was by himself, that he had not deliberately meant to leave Peter out but had just spared his friend no thought.

"I'm a bit worried about him," Peter said. For Peter to admit to something like this was quite unusual; Remus's gaze flickered upwards from his trunk. Peter was chewing his lip. "Well," he said, "it's just he and Sirius have never fought before."

Remus had nothing to say to this, except "Sirius brought this on himself", but he stayed silent. Peter watching him, his gaze anxious.

"It's just not the same," Peter said. "James isn't the same. He's been really quiet."

Remus felt a flare of irritation – it had only been two days, for Merlin's sake – but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. It was fair to say that James had never been quiet, even for a few hours. He was being selfish; he was not the only one this had affected. Even Peter seemed deflated, less animated. But still he could not bring himself to do anything about it.

"Don't you think you could…just maybe make it up with Sirius?"

Remus's attention snapped back to Peter, who was looking at him uncertainly. It was not surprising, that Peter was desperate for it all to go back to the way it was before, and for a moment Remus felt guilty that it never would be again. _But you didn't do this, _he reminded himself sharply. _This isn't your fault._

"No," he said abruptly. "I'd rather gauge out my eye with my wand."

"Oh." Peter's face fell. Suddenly unable to stand it, Remus shut his trunk.

"I've got to go and pick up some work from Professor Babbling," he lied, and before Peter could question what, exactly, this work might be, he fled from the dorm.

* * *

Having been rather suddenly abandoned by Remus, and not feeling much like packing, Peter set off in search of James, who had likewise disappeared somewhat abruptly after their earlier jaunt to the kitchens. It took Peter a while, but he eventually found his friend in the stands of the Quidditch pitch, playing with the practice Quaffle his parents had bought him for his birthday. It should have been the first place Peter looked, but he'd looked in all their usual haunts before it had finally occurred to him that James was by himself, and he only ever went to one place when he wanted to be alone.

James didn't notice Peter at first: he was passing the Quaffle between his hands, staring at the goal hoops, although Peter had the impression he wasn't really seeing them. For a moment Peter wondered if he should just leave James be – this new, quiet and brooding James was not as easy to be around – but then, a result of his attention being focused entirely on his friend rather than on where he was going, Peter tripped over one of the benches and let out a loud swear as pain shot up his shin. James's head snapped around; Peter hesitated. But then James relaxed, moving his bag off the bench next to him, and, taking it as an invitation, Peter made his way more carefully down to James and fell onto the bench beside him.

"It's supposed to rain," said Peter without preamble. James snorted and looked up at the clear sky above them.

"Bloody good job we made you do Ancient Runes with us instead of Divination."

"My great-great aunt was a celebrated Seer!" Peter protested, reminding James of the reason why Peter had been so keen to do Divination in the first place. But the rest of them were less than keen: the teacher – a short, unimpressive woman by the name of Madam De Lounge – had once caught James and Sirius trying to steal her collection of crystal balls to throw down the main staircase, and had never forgiven them. "Anyway," Peter grumbled, "I'm just telling you so you don't get wet." He had tried to tell James just how soaked he'd got, waiting in that bush for Sirius at the full moon, but James had not seemed especially interested; even now, he did not get the complaint underlying Peter's words.

"I don't think there's much danger of that," said James dryly. He looked back down at the Quaffle in his hands and didn't say anything else. Peter regarded him rather uneasily. James and Sirius usually led and dominated whichever conversation they were a part of: having to actually make conversation with James instead of merging into the background was too weird; Peter found himself wishing, yet again, that none of this had happened.

"Moony hexed Padfoot," he said, feeling that he had nothing else of interest to say. It seemed to catch James's attention; he turned to look at Peter, his eyebrows raised.

"Sirius tried to speak to him?" he questioned.

Inspired by this interest, Peter nodded eagerly. "Yeah. But Moony used the Kneecap-Reversing Hex."

James winced. "Well, good for Lupin," he said at last. "He's a lot more stylish than me; I punched him."

Peter ogled him. "You did? Is that where he got that bruise?" Peter had noticed the purple mark lining Sirius's jaw that had become more and more prominent over the last day; in fact, a number of people had. But those who had made the mistake of asking Sirius about it had got a very rude response, and the Hufflepuff Prefect who had asked that afternoon had got a Conjunctivitis Hex to the eye. Peter had imagined that maybe Snape had hit Sirius, and Sirius was too embarrassed to say; but now he thought about it, he couldn't very well imagine Snape punching anyone very effectively – James and Sirius were always laughing at how athletically inept Snape was.

"Guess so." James's tone was dull. Peter examined him again. The truth was, he thought, James just wasn't the same without Sirius, however much Peter might like to think that James liked him, Peter, just as much. Nor was Sirius the same without James. James was brooding; Sirius was obnoxious; but it was evident that they were both miserable without the other. And it wasn't just them: Peter wasn't having much fun with this new, melancholy James either. But going to Sirius, who shot mutinous glares at the two of them every lesson, was not a terribly appealing option either. And Remus had made it quite clear he wanted to be alone. It all made Peter very anxious. He did not like the unknown: he liked it when James and Sirius led the group, and they allowed Peter to tag along; he was nervous of this new situation, in which James might expect him to do the sort of stuff Sirius would, and Peter already knew he couldn't. He had hoped this would blow over quickly. But as he examined the straight line of James's mouth, Peter wondered if he'd been far too optimistic.

"You..uh..._are _going to make it up, though, right?" he asked timidly.

The straight line of James's lips dropped a little. "I told Remus I wouldn't."

Peter felt his eyebrows shoot up. He could not recall a time when James had ever, ever gone against Sirius for Remus. But, tempting as this avenue was to pursue – would he choose Peter over Sirius, too? – Peter knew that having the four of them back together was more important. It was just finding a way to make James see that too; Peter knew he had to tread carefully.

"Do you think Remus is acting that…um…reasonably at the moment?"

James's head jerked up. "He's got good reason – " he started angrily.

"I know, I know!" Peter said hastily, backing down at once. James eyed him for a second, but then his head dropped again. James did not hold a grudge for long. Peter stayed quiet for another minute before he tried again. "I'm just saying," he said nervously, "you know Remus would forgive you if you started speaking to Sirius again. Eventually."

James looked at him silently for several long seconds, and Peter had to resist the urge to shrink backwards.

"I don't know if I _want _to speak to Sirius again," said James at last, his voice flat. He looked back down at the Quaffle in his hands and seemed to swallow hard. "He tried to murder someone."

Peter was on the verge of saying, "It's only Snivellus", but caught himself just in time – somehow he did not think it would sit well with James at that particular moment.

"That's not what matters to Moony," he said instead – slowly, trying to test the waters with James. "What he cares about is the fact that he thinks Sirius hates him." That, Peter was certain, was true: Remus did not seem particularly concerned about the fact Sirius had tried to kill someone; Remus, as much as Peter, liked having friends, and he was as upset as Peter would have been if he thought that Sirius really didn't like him.

James was staring at him. "That's ridiculous," he muttered at last, looking back down at the Quaffle. "Sirius doesn't hate him. It's Snape he hates." To Peter's surprise, James suddenly threw his Quaffle, hard, from where he was sat. They were more than a hundred feet from the hoops, and it was a tricky angle, but the Quaffle sailed through the central hoop cleanly, dropping to the ground.

"That was _amazing,_" Peter breathed, but James didn't seem to hear him.

"I mean, I hate Snape – maybe even more than Sirius – and I'd do anything for Moony, but you can't just go feeding someone to a werewolf!" he said angrily, running a hand through his hair. "That's – that's _wrong._"

"He…er…only did it to protect Moony's secret though…didn't he?" asked Peter uncertainly.

James was looking at him again, but his expression was unreadable. Suddenly, to Peter's distinct disconcertion, his friend put his head in his hands.

"I just don't know," he mumbled. "Murder's murder, right? But it's bloody _Sirius. _How could he do something like this?" He ran both hands down his face and turned to look at Peter. "The whole thing's a mess. I just…_I don't know what to do."_

Peter had nothing to say to this; he could only stare at James blankly. His only thought was if _James _didn't know how to fix it, maybe it really was the end of the Marauders.

* * *

_Occlumency has been a highly coveted branch of magic for centuries: almost as long as its natural enemy and partner, Legilimency, the skill of reading minds at will, which is surely the most prized of all ancient magic. Whilst not all Occlumens are accomplished Legilimens, and not all Legilimens master the skill of Occlumency, it is nonetheless true that they often go hand in hand in the especially talented witch or wizard, and it is this author's view that one cannot well grasp the underlying theory of Occlumency if one does not first understand the method and effect of Legilimency._

"Rumour has it that Nott and Lestrange have secured an audience with the Dark Lord," Mulciber announced, interrupting Severus's reading. He looked up – if for no other reason than the fact it was the first time in two days that Mulciber had said something that did not refer to Whomping Willows, damsel half-bloods in distress that required rescuing, or speculation as to what the monster in the tunnel could possibly be. Severus did not instinctively believe Mulciber's claim, however, which he had surely made to spice up the otherwise quiet dormitory that night.

"Oh really," said Rosier sceptically. He was taking a break from packing his trunk for the holidays. "And where did you hear that?"

"You don't believe me?" Mulciber demanded, brushing aside Rosier's question.

"I think," said Burke slowly (he nearly always spoke slowly – not because he was in fact slow, but because he was always careful about what he said), "that all Rosier's saying is that it's pretty unbelievable. They haven't even finished school yet." He too was sitting beside a nearly full trunk – in fact, the following evening the dormitory would be half-empty, because Jugson had also signed up to go home, although he was considerably less organised than his dorm mates and even now he lounged on his bed, his trunk sitting empty on the floor.

"They have nearly," Mulciber said. "Anyway, my uncle told me that the Dark Lord is interested in Hogwarts – in getting people on his side as early as possible."

Severus was disinclined to believe this, since nearly everything that Mulciber prefaced with "my dad" or "my uncle" was a tall story indeed, and he looked down at his library book again. He had had to get a special slip for the Restricted Section: since Slughorn was the teacher that liked him best, he had gone to him, and sure enough his Head of House had signed it, although he had looked at Severus rather oddly, and had commented that he had seen very few students request that particular book during his time at Hogwarts. Severus didn't care. If there was one thing the humiliation of the last few days had taught him, it was that the only person he could rely on was himself, and he'd better be prepared. If only, he thought, he had been able to master Occlumency before he had ever stepped foot in Dumbledore's office: he might have been able to convince the Headmaster of Black's despicable nature and untrustworthiness. If he had been able to perform Legilimency on Black, he might have been able to avoid this mess altogether. He began reading again, but it was Avery who interrupted him this time.

"I've heard that too," he said unexpectedly. Avery did not generally back up Mulciber's far-fetched claims, and, indeed, was in the habit of saying that he was above petty gossip. As all heads in the dormitory turned to look at him (even Mulciber looked a bit surprised), he shrugged. "It makes sense, doesn't it?" he said haughtily. "I had a letter from my father today, telling me that the Dark Lord has finally turned on blood traitors, and is watching Hogwarts carefully to ensure he only recruits those who really understand what blood purity's about." His gaze flickered to Severus and away again. "He said the Dark Lord's only recruiting seventh years for now, but it'll be the sixth years next, and we're not far off sixth year…"

"He put that in a letter?" Severus was appalled, and more than a little sceptical.

Avery spared him another glance. Avery had stopped ridiculing Severus quite as much, ever since Snape had destroyed his precious cloak, but he had been very cool with Severus all the same. "It had privacy curses on it, obviously," he said. "If anyone else had opened it, they probably would have lost a hand."

"My parents do that," Rosier agreed. "Makes sense, really."

"So when are Nott and Lestrange meeting the Dark Lord?" Burke asked, clearly bored. Burke knew more about cursing objects than anyone: his family had made a business of it.

"Soon," said Avery, as Mulciber said, "Tomorrow."

"It's just the people he can be sure about first," said Mulciber. "My uncle said he's not restricting himself to Slytherin, but those are the ones he can be sure about."

This made sense, and there were more than a few Ravenclaws, Severus thought, who were just as ambitious as some of the Slytherins. But tomorrow was _soon: _the notion gave him a bit of a chill. How quickly would the Dark Lord turn his attentions to Severus's year?

His dorm mates, too, looked a bit pensive: Rosier was fiddling with the catch on his trunk; Avery was looking slightly less haughty than usual; even Jugson was staring off into the distance (although this was not too much different from his normal gormless expression, Severus thought derisively). But then Mulciber spoke.

"Better pull your wand out of your ear, Snape," he said with an unpleasant leer. "The Dark Lord won't want followers who have to be rescued by a blood-traitor Potter."

The whole dorm except for Severus sniggered; like that, the moment was broken, and Severus went back to his book, cheeks burning in the now-familiar feeling of anger and humiliation.

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and particularly (as usual!) to ArwenFairTinuviel, who helped me get through the writers' block funk I was in. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter; I'd love to continue hearing what you all think


	14. Choosing One's Battles

**Disclaimer**: The world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and includes, but is not limited to, characters, places, objects and events you recognise. I do not profess to seek ownership of said world, nor to seek profit from it.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Choosing One's Battles**

**17th April 1976, the early hours**

The worst way to be woken, without a doubt, is by a cold shot of water to the face.

Nonetheless, this was how Severus was woken, suddenly and quite unceremoniously, what felt like mere minutes after he had fallen asleep. Instinctively, he went to yell out, but at once a hand covered his mouth, and a whisper in his ear said: "Bloody Salazar, Snape, don't wake your whole dorm."

The hand was removed, and a wand was lit dimly to reveal the pale face of Rabastan Lestrange. He looked dreadful, his eyes sunken and hollow, as if he had not yet slept – or maybe it was just the half light. He straightened up and muttered, "Get up. Now. We're meeting in the usual place. And be quiet, for Merlin's sake."

Then he was moving away, towards Rosier's bed. Still a bit shaken, Severus sat up in bed. The dormitory was pitch black; it had to be the middle of the night. Nott and Lestrange had never hauled them out of bed like this; in fact, not in the whole history of Severus attending these meetings, since he was in second or third year, could he remember an unscheduled meeting taking place in the middle of the night.

Still, whatever his methods, one did not refuse Rabastan Lestrange. Severus swung his legs out of bed and stood up, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. He could see several of his dorm mates getting out of bed, pulling on various items of clothing. Severus picked up his discarded school robes from the floor and pulled them over his head. He would probably look slightly odd, but it was better than the whole of Slytherin seeing his old, charity-shop-bought pyjamas.

He was the first of the fifth years out into the corridor outside the dormitory, but he was soon joined by Rosier, Avery and Mulciber, all blinking a bit even in the low light of the mounted wall lanterns.

"What're you doing here?" Mulciber asked, eying Severus.

"Lestrange woke me; same as you," Severus whispered back, irritated.

"What Mulciber's trying to say is: why would Lestrange invite _you_ over Burke or Jugson?" said Avery.

Severus's eyebrows shot up at this, but it was true that Burke and Jugson had not joined them out on the landing – and hadn't Lestrange told him not to wake the rest of his dorm? But why would Lestrange want to exclude those two…?

"Come on," said Rosier irritably, crossing his arms over his chest. "Let's get this over with, whatever it is."

One by one, they filed towards the Common Room. They were joined on the way by Hyperion Greengrass, a seventh year, and a few fourth years who looked as bemused as Severus felt.

"Come on," Greengrass bit out in a low but harsh voice. "We haven't got all night."

Severus couldn't see any reason why they didn't, actually – once they were safely ensconced in the dungeon room, no one would come across them, so long as they kept their voices down. But he kept his mouth shut; Greengrass was not as nasty as Nott or Lestrange, but he still wasn't the sort of person one crossed if they wanted to keep themselves out of the Hospital Wing.

They were the last group to arrive; as Severus entered the dungeon, he saw it was a very select group indeed that had been roused from their beds and dragged to this meeting. There was no one under fourth year – and in fact the only fourth years who had been invited were Regulus Black, his best friend Titus Selwyn and another fourth year Severus thought might be called Gwyneira, but whose surname was definitely Rowle, for he had heard Rosier and Avery whispering the other day about how her father had narrowly escaped arrest for attacks on Muggles. Of the sixth years, the numbers were also few. Holden Wilkes, the sixth year Prefect who had been rumoured to have been involved in a few nasty incidents involving the lower years, which Slughorn had somehow managed to overlook, was sitting in a row with Pollux Parkinson, Magnus Gibbon and Titus's older brother Ignatius Selwyn. The latter three all had family who were Death Eaters, if Mulciber was to be believed. Nott, Lestrange and the two Greengrass twins – Hyperion and his sister Ursa – stood at the front, their arms folded across their chests. As Severus took a seat beside Rosier, with Avery and Mulciber in front, he realised dimly that he was the only half-blood present – unless you counted Wilkes, who it was rumoured had a Muggle-Born great-Grandmother, but no one had ever actually heard Wilkes confess to this. Still, perhaps blood had not been the determining factor for an invitation: Burke, still sleeping blissfully in the dormitory, was as pure as they came.

Nonetheless, Severus thought, most Slytherins would consider that he was in the company of many of the House's members most worthy of respect.

So what was all this about?

He did not have long to wait: as the wall protecting the room was put back in place, all four of the seventh years pulled up their sleeves to reveal identical bandages on their forearms.

At once, the shock in the room was palatable. Although those in younger years, those without family already in the Death Eater ranks, or those fortunate enough not to share a dormitory with unsubtle idiots like Mulciber would not have understood the significance of what was before them, there was not a single person in the room who did not immediately comprehend what had happened. All at once, it was quite obvious why Burke and Jugson had been excluded: although Burke's family had been dealing in Dark objects for generations, they were not Death Eaters; and Jugson was well known for not being able to keep his mouth shut about anything.

_So_, Severus thought, his heart hammering a little, _Mulciber was right after all. There'll be no living with him after this._

As people shifted nervously in their seats, however, and the four seventh years remained silent, obviously enjoying the moment, it occurred to Severus that he was more than a little surprised that the Greengrass twins had taken such a significant step. They had never shown much inclination to lead the meetings that Nott and Lestrange did; indeed, although they attended every single lecture, they generally kept their heads down – there were no stories about them like the ones about Holden Wilkes. But there was something distinctly different about them now, Severus thought, that he had never seen before – indeed, even about Nott and Lestrange – which extended beyond just the white bandages on their forearms. Perhaps it was gravitas, Severus speculated. They were all holding themselves in a way that suggested they had seen things the others in the room could not begin to contemplate.

It could have been put on, of course: Severus was already beginning to suspect that the only reason they had all been unceremoniously dragged from their beds to their usual meeting place was so that the seventh years could parade their new badges of initiation amongst the few who already knew what a bandaged forearm would mean. They couldn't have wasted any time – Severus had seen Lestrange at dinner the previous night, so they must have sneaked out and gone straight to the dormitories as soon as they had arrived back at Hogwarts. Vaguely, Severus wondered how they had managed to sneak out of school.

At last, Nott dropped the sleeve of his robes back over his forearm and the others followed suit. Nott stepped forward. The silence in the room was thick – though from fear or anticipation, it would have been hard to say.

"Some of you," said Nott, "will understand why we have asked you to come here tonight."

If possible, Severus thought with some derision, Nott had actually become more pompous-sounding since being initiated as a Death Eater. But when he glanced sideways at Rosier, he saw his dorm mate was hanging onto Nott's every word. Was Severus missing something? Gravitas he might admire; misplaced arrogance he did not. Unsettled, he returned to looking at the front; Lestrange had just stepped forward to take over.

"This meeting is not simply because we wish to show you what lies ahead, if you are careful and manage to obtain the good graces of the Dark Lord," he said calmly. He might have usually, on the whole, been more sensible than Nott, but he sounded equally as smug this evening. "No," he continued loftily, "the Dark Lord has given his newest members an important task."

He paused for effect; on cue, everyone present stirred and bristled again. Even Severus, in spite of his cynicism, found his attention was suddenly locked onto Lestrange, interested in what this task could be.

"The Dark Lord," said Nott, "has asked us," he gestured to the seventh years at the front, "to spread His message at Hogwarts. Further, He has asked us to look out for the talent within Hogwarts and to recommend to Him whom He might recruit."

Whispers broke out at once – the excitement was palatable; but it was also edged with fear, Severus thought uneasily. And he could understand why: even for him, and he did not like to think of himself as a coward, the idea of meeting the most renowned Dark wizard of their time made his heart beat faster with something more than just anticipation.

"When will the sixth years be recruited?" Pollux Parkinson asked over the low-level murmurs. He got a particularly condescending look from Nott; Lestrange was the one who answered.

"One does not try to anticipate the Dark Lord's intentions!" he said sharply. "But it's not too difficult to imagine, is it, that He will recruit soonest those who show the most potential and commitment."

Parkinson fell silent at this; it was no great secret in Slytherin that he did not have half the brains of his elder sister, Pandora, who had graduated two years before.

"How do we demonstrate our commitment?" Holden Wilkes asked.

In spite of the rumours about him, it was reasonably obvious why Wilkes was the sixth year Prefect; he was ferociously intelligent, far more so than most of his year. Even Severus, as a first year, had been quite in awe of him, but Wilkes had rejected his proffered attempts at friendship very quickly. Now he was older and less naïve, Severus knew why, although the knowledge made him no less resentful: Wilkes was just about the most ambitious person in Slytherin, and having a younger half-blood hanging off him would not have done him any favours, regardless of the fact that Severus had known, and still knew, more curses than almost anyone in the whole House. It was no surprise now that he was the one asking the pertinent questions.

"Commitment will be demonstrated primarily by interest in the Dark Lord's ideals and methods," said the Lestrange calmly. "You have all shown your interest by attending our meetings in the past; what is needed now is a demonstration of your loyalty and dedication to the cause."

_Yet another of Lestrange's vague assertions that mean absolutely nothing,_ thought Severus dully, sitting back in his seat. But to his surprise, Nott had stepped forward again to add to Lestrange's words.

"We," Nott gestured to the seventh years, "are of course short of time. But in our final term we will be holding sessions which concentrate on the use of Dark Magic and go further than these meetings can." The room had suddenly gone very quiet; everyone was watching Nott with rapt attention. "However," he continued, "given our time constraints, and the nature of these sessions, we will only be inviting those of you we consider possess the most potential. Naturally, the sixth years are most likely to be able to demonstrate this."

The sixth years looked rather smug about this: Wilkes and Gibbon were smirking at one another, while Selwyn and Parkinson had sat up rather straighter. Behind Severus, however, Selwyn's younger brother Titus was whispering to Regulus Black that he would like to join in these sessions, while in front, Avery and Mulciber seemed to be murmuring to one another quite resentfully. Rosier leaned forward to whisper to them without looking at Severus. Of course, none of his dorm mates would consider that Severus would qualify for these sessions.

"Naturally," Lestrange drawled, just loud enough so that it carried out the whispers, "if those in the fourth and fifth years can prove to us that they have talents and dedication the Dark Lord may be especially interested in, we will include them in our sessions and make recommendations to our Lord accordingly."

Now this was interesting. Even Severus found himself sitting up again. He was more talented than his whole dorm put together. But Nott and Lestrange would not easily accept that, he knew: Nott especially was a horrendous snob, although Lestrange had on occasion shown some appreciation for Severus's knowledge and talent in Dark curses.

"How're we going to prove it to them?" Mulciber demanded, as soon as others started to get up from their seats to leave, sensing their dismissal. Severus, sitting by himself, blinked at Mulciber, slightly surprised at his dorm mate's sudden inclusion of him in his use of the word 'we'. But, then, he supposed, Mulciber was not especially intelligent – Mulciber, whilst he might not openly admit it, would need Severus. Immediately, Severus sensed a way back into his dorm mate's good graces.

"I don't know what you're worried about," said Avery haughtily, still not looking at Severus. "Your father will get you in." Clearly, he himself was convinced of his position: he was probably wondering why Severus had even been invited.

"One cannot simply rely on family connections," a low female voice interrupted them. The three fifth years looked up to see Ursa Greengrass standing over them. She was a slightly odd person, Severus had often thought: unusually beautiful, with dark ebony hair and very fair skin; but quiet and thoughtful rather than outspoken. She had always struck Severus as the sort of person to keep her head down, rather than join the Dark Lord at the first opportunity. Her expression was cool as she surveyed them. "You'll probably get in eventually like that," she said. "But the Dark Lord is interested in the talents of his young potential followers: you'll never get anywhere unless you capture his attention for the right reasons."

Her eyes fell on Severus. "You've got talent, Snape," she said. "We've all seen your curses before – I reminded Nott and Lestrange of that; and that's why they invited you tonight. You're a half-blood, but that won't matter to the Dark Lord – not with talent like yours." Her gaze flickered around the fifth years. "Don't make the mistake of overlooking talent just because of blood," she said. "The Dark Lord won't thank you for it."

Severus fought not to look too pleased; beside him, Rosier looked rather surprised and, in front, Avery bristled, but Ursa Greengrass either didn't notice or didn't care – without saying anything else, she went back to the other seventh years, who were starting to leave.

"C'mon," Avery muttered. "Let's go back to bed. I've had enough of this."

He had evidently not taken Ursa Greengrass's comments well; he did not look at Severus, although Rosier was looking a little impressed and Mulciber nudged Severus in a way that was evidently supposed to be congratulatory. After days of humiliation and belittling, however, this was more than Severus could have hoped for – at last something was going his way; someone had noticed that he was not some sort of pathetic idiot.

"We've got to get into those sessions," Mulciber whispered as they let themselves back into the Common Room.

"Well, it'll have to wait until I'm back," said Rosier. "I'm going home for the holidays."

"Probably Lestrange will've come to his senses by then and realised what really matters." Avery's voice was cold; his sidelong glance at Severus were telling of whom his comments were aimed at. As they reached the dormitory and filed in one by one, Severus hung back, watching after them. If he could get into those sessions with the seventh years, he knew Avery wouldn't be so dismissive; and he knew he'd probably never have to hear another word from Mulciber about Potter saving him.

The question was: how was he going to do it?

His mind was still working furiously as he entered the dormitory after his House mates. It was going to take some thought, but he'd manage it one way or another. Perhaps Mulciber's congratulatory nudge and recognition that he might need Severus could be used to his advantage.

As he climbed back into bed, Severus made a note to be much more appreciative of Ursa Greengrass in future.

* * *

**17th April 1976, a little later in the morning**

The Marauders were gone: irrevocably, irreparably broken.

It was a strange notion, Remus thought as he lay on his back in bed on Saturday morning. After a night of dreamless sleep, thanks to Madam Pomfrey's potion, he at last felt rested, his thoughts more ordered, although he still felt oddly detached from it all. Behind the closed hangings of his four poster, he could almost imagine that nothing had changed. But even closing his eyes would not alter the fact that Peter's faint snores were the only heavy breathing he could hear – the telltale sign that he was not the only one lying awake. Usually, as soon as more than one of them was up, they were all up, as they could never keep their talking and laughing down. The silence beyond Remus's hangings this morning seemed only to underline how different things now were.

It felt horribly, horribly surreal.

Bereft was the word, Remus decided, rolling onto his side and staring at the red of his hangings. That explained this feeling he had, of something having been snatched away from him, of his brain not having properly caught up yet. He felt bereft.

_Well, you're going to be a lot more bereft unless you get your act together_, he told himself grimly. He might, at last, have been able to think clearly, but it seemed the result of this was that his mind had finally given over to the pervading shame he should have been feeling for the last few days. He'd thought he'd felt bad enough the day before in Dumbledore's office, but he had given no thought to two people who really deserved an apology for the way he'd been behaving: James, at whom he had shouted and whom he had blamed; and Peter, whom he had pushed away out of guilt he could not fixed things the way Peter wanted him to.

He thought it would be best to talk to them together, but there was very little time left: in just a few short hours, he and Peter would be on the Hogwarts Express, heading rapidly south to London. If he had not smoothed things over with James before then, there might be no hope of ever fixing it. James was quick to forgive, but only if one gave him the opportunity.

It was quite suddenly that Remus made up his mind: he threw back his covers, pulled on his dressing gown, and padded over towards James's silent bed.

It was always a bit of a danger, venturing without warning beyond one's dorm mates' hangings first thing in the morning. And so Remus gave a light tap on one of the bed posts nearest James's head, and waited for the whisper that said, "Yeah?" before he slipped between James's curtains, casting the _Muffliato_ charm and shutting the hangings behind him.

James was sitting up in bed. He, of all of them, coped least well with a bad night's sleep, and Remus could see straight away that he'd slept very little: his hair was even messier than usual; he looked pale; there were creases under his eyes. His glasses sat lopsided on his face, as if he had been repeatedly rubbing his eyes with tiredness. He would likely spend most of the day sleeping; he was usually useless for anything if he'd slept badly. Still, he managed a tired smile as Remus sat down on his bed.

"Morning," he said. "You look better."

"Better than you, I expect," said Remus wryly. "Couldn't sleep?"

"No," James muttered. He reached up to rub his eyes with his thumb and forefinger again, and then straightened his glasses. "You packed?"

"All done. Not sure the same can be said for Peter," Remus replied.

This raised a half-smile from James; Peter's reputation for disorganisation was legendary. When they had been going home the previous Christmas, Peter had somehow managed to forget so many things that Remus had had to go on a last minute trip to the library to look up the spell for turning a paper bag into a suitcase, since Peter's school trunk had already been taken to Hogsmeade station. Even this memory did not seem to be able to perk James up much, however. His smile dropped quickly; and he leaned his head back against the headboard, looking unusually preoccupied.

"It's going to be bloody weird with you two gone," he said after a long pause.

It was bloody weird seeing James this melancholy, Remus thought; James could normally be relied upon to cheer everyone else up. But then, Remus supposed, James probably felt just as bereft as he did – except that he could not go home for Easter, and faced two weeks in a dormitory with someone to whom he wasn't speaking. Remus would probably look as desolate as James if he had to spend the next fortnight with Sirius.

Still, he'd likely have felt a lot better if he knew he had friends who valued him properly returning after the holidays; perhaps there was something Remus could do to help.

"I owe you an apology," he said evenly.

James's head snapped forward to look at him. "No, you don't," he said quickly. "I'll be fine here – loads of the Quidditch team are staying, and my parents are taking me out to lunch tomorrow before they head off. Anyway," he said, with a small, strained grin, "Peter offered to ask his parents if I could stay, and his dad loves me, right?"

Peter's dad certainly did not love James – or any of them, in fact. He had banned Peter's friends from ever setting foot in his house again when they had set off a bag of fireworks in Peter's room the summer after first year. Remus would have rated the chances of James being allowed to stay at the Pettigrews' for two weeks somewhere close to zero. But he could not bring himself to share James's smile.

"I wasn't apologising for going away," he said. He could not really apologise for that, because he wouldn't have meant it – despite wanting to make things up with James and Peter, he was also desperate to get away from it all, and have some time to himself, where he didn't need to feel guilty every time he caught a glimpse of Dumbledore, where he didn't feel like punching something every time he saw Sirius, and where there was no danger of him running into Severus Snape. No: he wanted to go home, but he also wanted to repair his friendship with James before he went.

"I need to apologise," he continued steadily, "for shouting at you the other day."

James's expression cleared at once. "Oh. Don't worry about that. I've already forgotten about it." He grinned a little again to show he meant it.

"No," Remus pressed, because it was important, he knew, if he were to have any hope of fixing this. "No, you saved my life. Shouting at you's probably the worst thing I could have done. I'm sorry." He paused, drawing in a deep breath. "And…and thanks – if you hadn't – "

"That's what mates do for one another; don't mention it." It was a little incredible, how flippant James could be about something that was of such magnitude; neither James nor Sirius were ones to be modest about their accolades (they'd been so full of themselves for managing the Animagus transformation, Remus had seriously worried that they might get carried away and start boasting about it from the rooftops of Hogwarts). It was odd, now, to see James so unbothered about the fact he'd saved several people's lives. Remus watched him for a moment, slightly disconcerted.

"I would've been detained," he pressed at last. "Snape would've been killed – "

James paused for a moment, eying him, as if weighing him up. Finally he said: "Nah. You were miles away from us."

Remus glanced at him, confused. He had been so convinced by his own, confusing memories of Wednesday night that he was sure he had been practically on top of James and Snape, inches from ripping them both to shreds. He felt sure this must have been confirmed by someone, but now he couldn't recall ever discussing the details; he only remembered James telling him that Snape had seen him, but never at what proximity. "I…thought I remembered…wasn't there an explosion?"

"Yeah, just me making sure you were kept out of the way," said James evenly. "But he barely glimpsed you at the end of the tunnel." His gaze was locked steadily onto Remus's. Something in Remus's chest seemed to ease, as if a great weight had been lifted from it.

"So I wasn't – I didn't – "

"We weren't in any danger," said James. Remus frowned.

"Yes, you were," he said. "If you'd been any closer than that, I could have killed you."

"You weren't."

"He still saw me." Remus sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. Despite the clarity of mind he'd had when he'd woken up, the mess of it all was bearing down on him again. Sirius had told Snape. Snape knew. The clenching pit of worry in his stomach was back; it gave a painful squeeze, as if to remind Remus of its presence. "D'you think Snape's going to stay quiet?" he mumbled.

"Of course he will."

But Remus was too used to James's false optimism when it was needed; he raised his head to look at his friend again. "No," he pleaded. "Be honest."

All cheeriness dropped from James's face; he frowned, pushing his glasses up his nose again. "I don't know," he said, sounding weary. "I hope so. Dumbledore's made him promise, so it just depends how much he cares about being expelled."

It was not the answer Remus had exactly wanted to hear, but at least it was honest.

"I still can't believe Dumbledore persuaded him to stay quiet," Remus muttered. "For a werewolf?"

"For _you_," James corrected him with another frown. "You're way preferable to Snape. If I were Dumbledore, I'd definitely rather keep you at Hogwarts than that slimy git."

Remus could not help a small, grateful twitch of the lips at this, but James's words had not really helped to ease his worry. James, of course, noticed.

"We won't do anything to provoke him," he said quickly. "We'll just…we'll leave him alone, and hopefully that'll be enough." At Remus's incredulous look, he sat up straighter; leaned forward. "Look," he said, "you wanted me to be honest, so I can't promise it'll be all right, but I promise I'll do my best to make sure it is, OK? I'll do everything I can to make sure Snape keeps his mouth shut. All right?" His hazel gaze was intense, sincere. It was impossible not to get drawn in by James when he was like this; he would have made a formidable politician. But still worry nagged at Remus.

"What if Sirius doesn't stay away from him?"

At the name of their dorm mate, James's expression darkened considerably; he sat back, his arms folded. "I think Sirius is pretty well aware of the kind of trouble he'd be in if he went near Snape again."

"But Dumbledore didn't expel him – "

"Not with Dumbledore," James interrupted. "_I'd_ bloody kill him."

His tone was low and angry; Remus watched him. Worry was still gnawing at him; he had thought that apologising to James would make things feel better, but there was still that feeling of bereavement, and by the expression on James's face, he felt exactly the same way. Remus felt another pang of guilt; he did not want James to feel the way he had to; with another clench, he knew what he had to do.

"You don't have to cut Sirius off for my sake." It killed Remus to say it – he didn't want James to talk to Sirius ever again; he wanted him to show that Remus was more important to him than that.

James's gaze jerked up angrily. "He tried to murder someone," he said, his tone incredulous. "How the hell can I be friends with someone like that?"

It should have been reassuring, to hear James condemn Sirius so unequivocally, but Remus found himself only disconcerted again. _Murder_. He had not thought of it like that – he had been too preoccupied with how Sirius how used him; how he had shown a wilful disregard for Remus's life; how he had so amply demonstrated how much he hated Remus. For a second, Remus felt a burst of resentment that James was more concerned about what Sirius had tried to do to Snape, rather than how Sirius had betrayed him, Remus. With some difficulty, he pushed it away. If he had not been so close to the centre of all this, in all likelihood he would have agreed with James – would have been examining the morality of Sirius's actions – rather than trying to nurse his own tattered pride. It was no use getting angry with James – again – when James was sticking by him.

"You should start getting ready," James said suddenly. "And wake Pete. Otherwise you'll miss the train."

Remus did not move for a moment.

"We're…we're good, then?" he asked cautiously.

James's eyebrows shot up. "Merlin's mother," he said. "Was that what all this was about? We're absolutely fine, you idiot. Still the Marauders, right?"

The last part was added with just a touch too much bravado; James's smile was just a bit pained. They weren't the Marauders anymore; not without Sirius. They both knew it. But there was no point in falling out about it.

"I'll say goodbye before I go," Remus said, forcing a small smile in return and sliding off the bed.

James's response was a salute. Remus left his friend's four poster, allowing the hangings to drop closed behind him, and wondering, now, if there was anything that would make him feel better.

* * *

**17th April 1976, late afternoon**

"We've got to get into those sessions," Mulciber said for the fifth time that day.

He, Avery and Severus were sitting outside, not far from the Quidditch pitch. Severus was bent over _Mastering the Mind Arts_ again; Avery had the _Standard Book of Spells, Grade _4, open on his lap, but hadn't looked at it once. It had been fairly obvious that when Mulciber suggested they go outside after lunch, none of them were going to get any real work done, and, five hours later, that was precisely what had happened. Severus, in fact, had announced his intention to go to the library, but Mulciber had been quite insistent that Severus join them, and since even Avery had been much warmer towards him by the end of lunch, Severus had agreed. He had kept his distance from his dorm mates that morning, but he had seen Avery and Mulciber talking together, and he guessed that the latter had somehow managed to persuade the former that to exclude Severus would be a mistake, if the seventh years thought he was worth something. Severus didn't much care as to the precise reason for their sudden warmth; it was, frankly, just a bit of a relief not to have to listen, red faced and fuming, while Mulciber performed renditions of Potter's supposed rescue of Severus.

"How're we going to do it?" Mulciber continued, when neither Avery nor Severus said anything. "How're we going to convince them to let us in?"

"By demonstrating our commitment, I suppose," said Avery. He chucked aside his textbook and leaned back on his hands. "Whatever that means."

"I know what that means," said Mulciber. Incredulous, both Severus and Avery turned their heads to look at him, ready for another one of Mulciber's bluffs. "You said it yesterday, Avery," he continued stoutly. "The Dark Lord's shown now what he thinks of blood traitors. So it's about showing you're not a blood traitor, isn't it?"

This was not, Severus thought, a terribly bad insight, by Mulciber's standards, but Avery rolled his eyes.

"And how are we going to do that?" he asked, an exasperated edge to his voice. "I would have thought it's pretty obvious by now that I'm not a blood traitor."

"Well, I don't know," said Mulciber. "But they're not letting us in, are they?"

Avery rolled his eyes as this lack of imagination, and turned to Severus. "What do you think, Snape? Any ideas?" He punched Severus lightly on the arm; Severus had to struggle to keep his expression carefully blank. He was not used to this sort of acceptance and treatment. Even before the whole debacle with Potter and Lupin, he had always been a bit of an outsider amongst his classmates. Avery and Mulciber's sudden friendliness made him feel a bit giddy.

"We could curse a few Mudbloods," Mulciber suggested. Severus grimaced.

"And give Dumbledore three witnesses with the same story against us?" he said. He did not add, of course, that he was already on dangerous ground with Dumbledore: attacks on Muggle-Borns would almost certainly see him thrown out of school. Nor, of course, did he mention Lily, but her face suddenly surfaced in his mind, those bright green eyes wide with fear.

_"I don't want you going around using this stuff on Muggle-Borns, Sev."_

"One Mudblood would be enough, though, wouldn't it?" Avery said suddenly. Severus glanced at him; Avery's smile was thin. In spite of his dorm mate's newfound warmth, Severus felt a flicker of unease. Avery was usually too busy trying to demonstrate how much better he was than everyone else to bother much with anything else, but he was reasonably clever, and he could be unexpectedly cold. He was precisely the sort of person who would suggest they attack Lily Evans, for his own personal amusement.

"And what are you going to do?" Severus asked, trying to sound more condescending than he currently felt. "Hang a Muggle-Born by their wrists in the dungeons?"

"_Ooh, not the Muggle-Borns!_" Avery mocked. Severus gritted his teeth. "Honestly, Snape," Avery continued, "when are you going to get over that disgusting Gryffindor filth?"

"We can do what we want," said Mulciber, as if Avery hadn't spoken. He was, evidently, too preoccupied with worrying about how to impress the seventh years to be mocking Severus. "C'mon, Snape," he pressed, "you know some good curses we could use."

Curses, in fact, that very few students in the school knew and, Severus thought uneasily, would easily be traced to him. But Mulciber's unusual words of praise struck deep; it was difficult to push them away. He didn't much fancy implicating himself by using Dark Magic on a Muggle-Born, but nor did he want to alienate his two dorm mates and lose their newfound admiration.

"Isn't it time for dinner?" he asked, with a tight smile and a nod at Mulciber to show he was grateful for the praise. He stood up, and shoved his book into his bag. Mulciber shrugged and stood up too, but Avery didn't move. He was regarding Severus with a small smile, as if he knew precisely why Severus wished to get off the subject.

"What's the matter, Snape?" he drawled. "Afraid we'll pick on _your_ Mudblood?"

"Don't be stupid; Snape's already given up that muck, haven't you?" Mulciber said.

There was a split second of silence, while Mulciber looked at Severus expectantly, and Severus tried not to look at Avery, all the while his mind working furiously.

"Course I have," he said finally, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "But I never really liked her that much anyway."

He must have done a reasonable job, because Mulciber looked satisfied, and surprise flickered across Avery's face, before he, too, looked convinced by Severus's explanation. Perhaps he had learned something from _Mastering the Mind Arts_ already.

"_One Mudblood_," Mulciber said as they started to walk back up to the castle. "That's all we need. On their own, so – "

He stopped very suddenly, and Severus and Avery halted too, bemused.

"C'mon, Mulciber," Avery complained. "I'm hungry."

"There's one now," said Mulciber, pointing behind them. With a cold feeling of dread, Severus turned on the spot, to see a girl sitting under the beech tree next to the lake. She had her knees drawn up to her chest and her chin was resting on them, her dark brown hair catching the little light that was left. It was not Lily. But she was a Gryffindor, and she was in their year – Mary, Severus thought her name was – presumably how Mulciber knew that she was a Muggle Born.

"I thought she was a half-blood," said Avery, eying her. He suddenly sounded a bit uncertain, and Severus realised it was not only him who had doubts about Mulciber's half-baked idea.

"No, definitely a Mudblood," said Mulciber.

They were all silent for several seconds; none of them moved. It was, in fact, Mary who moved first; she wiped her face with her arm, and then pushed herself up, brushing down her skirt with her hands. Then, with a last look out over the lake, she started to walk towards the castle. She did not appear to have noticed the small group of Slytherins watching her.

"What're we going to do?" Avery muttered.

The girl was now not more than thirty metres away; she had finally noticed them, and she stopped, her expression faltering as she eyed them nervously.

As if they had planned it in advance, Mulciber and Avery moved seamlessly towards her; she took a step backwards, and then began running in the opposite direction. Severus hesitated for a second, his mind working quickly, and then he pulled out his wand.

"_Petrificus Totalu_s," he murmured.

The spell hit her square in the back; she fell forwards into the grass, stiff as a board. Avery stopped and turned to Severus, his expression impressed.

"Quick thinking, Snape."

"Well, you were practically chasing her across the grounds," said Severus. "If you hadn't caught her, and picked someone else, she's obviously going to tell people she saw us, isn't she?"

The respect and admiration in Avery's expression was now palatable, but Severus could not appreciate it just then. He felt sick with nerves, the adrenaline making him feel slightly dizzy. He had made a snap decision, choosing to risk being caught three-on-one against a defenceless Muggle-Born over losing the respect of his dorm mates, but he still wasn't sure it was the right one.

"_Quickly_," he hissed. "We've got to take her somewhere else – anyone could see us here." He felt horribly exposed; he looked around quickly, making sure no one else had seen. "Come on."

"Where're we going to go?"

"Behind the greenhouses?" Mulciber suggested. He was looking at Mary with a mixture of hunger and excitement.

"Well, I'm not touching it," said Avery immediately, folding his arms.

Slightly exasperated, Severus levitated the girl a small way off the ground, and glanced around again. The greenhouses were unquestionably their best bet: they were just behind the castle and, most importantly, no one would be able to see them from the castle itself.

"Come _on_," he hissed again, pulling the girl along with him, as if she were held by some invisible cord, as he began hurrying towards the greenhouses. Avery and Mulciber trotted after him.

They reached the back of the greenhouses in less than a minute – there was dense bush growing there, so it afforded considerable cover, even if Sprout herself were to amble into Greenhouse Five, the closest one. Severus let the Gryffindor girl drop unceremoniously onto the ground. She looked at him, her pale blue eyes wide and frightened in the shadow, and it occurred to Severus that, if she told, and Dumbledore believed her, this was the end of his Hogwarts career. Was it worth it, to impress Avery and Mulciber – or even Nott and Lestrange?

No, he decided immediately. But that could be fixed. He moved round the back of her, where she could not see, and raised his wand once more.

"_Obliviate_."

* * *

Being alone in Hogwarts Castle was exceedingly lonely.

Well, Sirius knew that he was not alone, literally speaking, but it certainly felt like he was: he had watched Remus and Peter getting into carriages to go home that morning, and he had not seen James all day. He was at a bit of a loss as to what to do with himself: he had not wanted to go flying, since that necessitated borrowing James's broom; he had not much fancied talking to anyone he had seen was staying; and he would rather drown himself in the lake than be caught studying in the library.

Even now, as evening began to set in, and dinner was no doubt starting in the Great Hall, Sirius found himself wandering the corridors rather aimlessly. The possibilities of what he could do were, he supposed, endless, but they all seemed pointless without someone to laugh at them with: aiming funny hexes at Slytherins, or pranking other Houses' Common Rooms held little entertainment value when he was by himself.

James was better at this, he thought bitterly. James – perhaps surprisingly for someone who had been brought up by an elderly couple, without many friends – was good at just talking to people; probably now he was in the Common Room with the Prewett twins, both of whom were on the Quidditch team, or else eating dinner with the girls from their year…

_No_, Sirius thought with a silent snort. If James was at dinner with the girls, he would probably be too busy putting his elbow into his food whilst staring at Lily Evans to be eating it. He really was an utter pillock when she was around.

The thought that James might be at dinner, however, was very off-putting; Sirius didn't much fancy eating by himself in the Great Hall – again – while James laughed and joked with other people. He could go to the kitchens, he supposed, but he didn't feel much like food. Frankly, he didn't feel like much of anything. Seeing Remus head off that morning without saying anything (what had he expected? A last minute reconciliation?) had shaken him more than he cared to admit. Even more so that he knew full well James and Remus had been up talking that morning – he had heard Remus knocking at James's bed post and casting the Muffliato Charm so that Sirius could not hear. They were behaving like they weren't friends with Sirius – as if they'd never been friends.

Sirius had had never been excluded in his life, but he decided there and then that he didn't like it.

He had not fully been paying attention as to where he was heading, but he found himself in the corridor at the top of the main staircase. It seemed somehow figurative, that he was losing his way around Hogwarts at a time when his thoughts were also such a mess.

_Merlin, when did you get so flipping fanciful?_ he told himself irritably. _Stop feeling sorry for yourself. What – you think someone's going to give you sympathy? Mummy's going to pat you on the head and tell you it's all going to be all right?_

The thought was almost laughable. Walburga Black had not been the sympathetic sort of mother even when Sirius had not been rebellious – before he'd gone to Hogwarts.

For a moment, Sirius stopped in the corridor, and massaged the space between his eyebrows – an annoying habit he'd picked up from James. Loneliness was, once again, threatening to overwhelm him.

"Pull yourself together," he muttered. "You did this – if you weren't going to like the consequences, you shouldn't have done it."

But the truth was simply this: he hadn't thought that it was going to be like this. In fact, he hadn't really thought that far ahead at all, if he was honest – because if Snape had been killed, his friends surely would not have spoken to him ever again either. But, to Sirius, it had seemed obvious that he was just trying to solve a problem. He'd thought his friends would understand that too.

"You know, it's supposed to be a sign of madness, talking to yourself," said an unfamiliar voice behind him.

Sirius whipped around to find his brother, Regulus, watching him warily from some distance away. But it was not him who had spoken; accompanying him was his best friend, Titus Selwyn – another fourth year. Sirius wondered, for a split second, what Regulus must have told Selwyn to give him the balls to take on the Black heir. He might be a sorry excuse for a Black heir, but there were certain protocols, and the younger Selwyn sibling speaking in such disrespectful tones to the oldest Black went against all of them.

"Probably all the inbreeding," Sirius said, his tone bored. "No doubt Reg has got all this to look forward to."

Regulus did not look at him. Regulus was, generally, in the habit of avoiding him at school, as if it was easier to pretend his older brother did not exist than to acknowledge what an embarrassment he was. He was likely less than pleased that Selwyn had started speaking to Sirius in the first place. Probably it was an accident they had even run into him; Regulus was a right little swot when he got going, so he'd probably been in the library and was now on his way to dinner. But Sirius was seized by recklessness; taking it out on his brother seemed like precisely the sort of thing that would make him feel better.

"What're you doing here, anyway?" he said. "Don't you have Dark objects to wank over, or something?"

He felt a leap of triumph as Regulus's face tightened; it was predictably easy to wind him up. Selwyn's eyes flashed, but, surprisingly, Regulus cut across him.

"You're just angry because none of your Gryffindor friends are speaking to you," he said haughtily.

It was a perfectly legitimate come-back to Sirius's rudeness; worse, it was even true – he did only want to wind Regulus up to distract himself from moping about James and the others. But Regulus's cool tones – or perhaps it was the fact that someone had bloody gone and noticed that his friends weren't speaking to him, which somehow made it so much worse – made something snap inside of Sirius, and before he knew what he was doing, he had taken several steps forward and punched his brother, very hard, in the face.

Regulus reeled backwards with a yell, clutching his mouth. Selwyn leaped forward, but Sirius jabbed him hard in the ribs with his elbow, and punched his brother again, this time on the left side of his face, square in the eye. Regulus, ever the wimp, went down, flailing, his arms above his head, as if to ward off any further attack. He was a lot shorter than Sirius now; cowering on the corridor floor, he just looked pitiful.

"You make me sick," Sirius said.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Selwyn go for his wand; not even bothering to whip out his own, Sirius snatched it from his hand and broke it clean in two. Selwyn watched, apparently horror-struck, as he threw it on the ground next to Regulus.

"Don't take on a mad man," said Sirius, and he turned and walked away from them. Regulus, he knew, would never have the guts to hex him, even from behind. It was why his brother always ignored Sirius at school, really – because he knew Sirius would always win.

It was a more liberated feeling he had, as he reached the top of the main staircase. Punching Regulus had made him feel quite a lot better – a fight had been exactly what he'd been after. It was quite tempting, now, to stride into the Great Hall and challenge James to one. James never, ever backed down from a fight. But even through the adrenaline he was feeling, Sirius knew, instinctively, that it was a bad idea: he had enough detentions as it was, without being given more for starting fist fights in the Great Hall.

Something else to work off this frustration, then.

Standing at the top of the stairs, Sirius's gaze suddenly landed on the door that led to the grounds. It wasn't curfew yet; the rules on actually being outside at dusk were a bit murky. It didn't really matter, because _Padfoot_ was unlikely to get caught, and had the added benefit of a much more limited emotional range. A good run outside in his Animagus form – that's what he needed.

Full of the enthusiasm he had been lacking for a number of days, Sirius jogged down the staircase and across the Entrance Hall, and let himself out.

It was getting properly dark now; the sun had set a while before. The now-waning moon had risen, though, and the fact it was still nearly full provided a fair amount of light. Sirius stepped back into the shadows, and crouched under a windowsill, where he was sure no one could see him.

Then he transformed.

The relief was instantaneous; although Sirius still had his own mind, his own thoughts, the dog's sense of priorities were different. All at once the smells of the grounds hit him – the wet grass, the smell of fish from the lake, and, somewhere in the distance, the smell of rabbits and deer. They took over, dominating the thoughts about his friends and pushing them away.

Padfoot stepped out of the shadows. Where should he go first? The Quidditch stadium? No – that was a bad idea, James could be there. But what about the Forest? There was plenty to keep Padfoot entertained, and he was not afraid, especially when he was in this form. He took several steps down the hill. He would have to be careful near Hagrid's hut, he thought dimly – he did not want to be caught by Hagrid, who would surely be delighted to have found a new pet.

But, taking another deep sniff of the air, there was something else which made him hesitate. That smell…a deeply unpleasant one, of grease and unwashed teenage boys. He wrinkled his nose. _Gross_. But there was more – a very particular smell. And although Sirius had never smelled his nemesis while in his Animagus form, he knew instinctively that it was Severus Snape.

He should leave it alone, he knew. Padfoot's nose told Sirius that Snape wasn't alone, and he'd already ascertained that to get into another fight that day would not endear him to his Head of House – he didn't want any more holiday detentions. But still he hesitated. He had never hated anyone like he hated Snape. If Snape hadn't been so determined to get them all expelled, if he had not been so obsessed with Remus and his secret, none of this would have happened. The urge to seek out Snape – to maul him, or perhaps to ambush him with his wand, was almost overwhelming.

James would kill Sirius if he found out, he knew. James was more worried that Snape would blab than Sirius; but Sirius had always thought that there was something holding Snape back, and it was not just lack of proof. Sirius was not convinced that Snape would risk expulsion, and, therefore, he reasoned, nothing had changed. Yet still he didn't move. He did not want to piss James off further. But the call of that greasy cockroach – probably not more than a hundred metres away – was continued to press on him. He'd wanted a fight, and Snape was the perfect candidate.

Still unsure, Padfoot took another few steps in the direction of the smell – towards the greenhouses. There was someone else, he realised dimly. A girl. It wasn't the same unpleasantness; Sirius even thought, strangely, he might recognise it. He stopped again. He did not pick fights with girls.

_Leave_ it, he told himself. _It's not worth it, not now. Another time._

Decided, he turned away, and trotted several steps down the hill.

But then he caught something else – a small whimper.

Padfoot turned around quickly, his ears pricked. That had been a human whimper – a girl's whimper. And it was coming from the same direction as the smell of Snape and his cronies.

Making up his mind, Padfoot started creeping slowly in the direction of the greenhouses.

* * *

"Haha – what's the matter, Mudblood, can't even walk?"

The three of them laughed as the Gryffindor girl tried to take another step and stumbled, foiled by the Sponge-Knee curse Avery had just used. She blinked around at them, confused: a combination of a Confundus Charm and a Jelly-Brain Jinx; and let out a loud whimper.

"_Langlock_," Severus said. The girl's hands flew to her mouth, the sudden sensation of her tongue fixing itself to the roof of her mouth alarming her. Avery and Mulciber, who had seen Severus use this curse several times in the Slytherin Common Room, guffawed in appreciation. It had, Severus thought, the benefit of ensuring that, if she ever came to her senses, she would not attract any unwanted attention, as well as having the rather amusing effect of making her look like a goldfish as she fruitlessly opened and closed her mouth. But more than that: Severus felt, for the first time in days, a sense of power, a sense that he was regaining some of the respect of his dorm mates. And it was difficult to feel worried about any of it – Severus had ensured that the girl would not remember any of what went on, including who was involved, and she was so pathetically helpless that it was difficult to even feel badly about what they were doing.

"Haha – Snape, do the…the…" Mulciber was laughing so hard he couldn't speak, but Severus knew, of course, to which spell he was referring – the whole school knew the spell thanks to James Potter and Sirius Black. He grimaced a little, but flicked his wand; as though an invisible hand had tugged at the Gryffindor girl's ankle, she was hoisted up into the air; her skirt and robes fell over her head to reveal pale blue knickers.

Avery and Mulciber roared with laughter; wincing, Snape hissed at them to be quiet.

"Wait, wait," Avery said, panting slightly for breath, "I've got a good one. _Anteoculatia_!"

Antlers sprouted from the girl's head, twisting and stretching like the roots of a tree; the girl let out an anguished moan, muffled by the fact that her tongue was still glued to the roof of her mouth.

"We could do the Barren Curse Nott was talking about the other week," suggested Mulciber suddenly. Severus looked at him uneasily. He remembered the Barren Curse perfectly well – it was the one Lily had accidentally overheard.

"_Sterilising Muggles and Muggleborns? People like me, Sev?"_

_"I don't want you going around using this stuff on Muggleborns."_

_"I won't. I promise."_

Well, it wouldn't be him doing the curse, Severus thought. But…but maybe it was a tad too close to the line, wasn't it? So far he'd personally avoided using Dark Magic. If they were caught, they'd be in the worst trouble imaginable. Memory Charms were not invincible, Severus knew; for a crime serious enough, Dumbledore would seek to pick apart any amnesia the girl had.

"Too risky," he said evenly. Avery sneered; started to argue, but Severus bit back with, "Remember all the steps, do you?"

That shut Avery up.

"Well, we need to do something impressive," he grumbled. "A few childish charms aren't going to impress Nott and Lestrange, are they?"

"We could do the Cruciatus Curse," said Mulciber.

Severus felt like banging his head against the wall. "No, you idiot – " he hissed.

"No, wait, I've got a better one," said Mulciber. "My uncle showed me. Watch this one, Snape; you'll enjoy it."

He lifted his wand, and Severus looked on rather nervously.

* * *

Sirius transformed close to Greenhouse One – in the shadows again. He thought he had a fairly good idea of where Snape was now – he could hear muffled laughter – and he wanted his wand in his hand. He pulled it out of his pocket, and edged quietly forwards. There was another low, tormented moan that made the hair on the back of Sirius's neck stand on end. What the hell was going on?

He reached Greenhouse Five, still crouched over in the shadows, and risked a look around.

Over the bush, he could just about make out the floating, upside figure of Mary Macdonald, a girl in his year. Her dark brown hair had fallen past her head, which seemed to have sprouted antlers; her skirt had fallen, too, so that her frilly underwear was on show. She was facing Sirius, her face pale and her eyes wide, but she did not seem to see him. Sirius felt sick. Without thinking too much about it, he raised his wand, and launched himself forwards.

* * *

"Well, c'mon," said Avery impatiently. Mulciber shot him a furious glance.

"All right, I was just remembering the spell," he said, and raised his wand again, turning back to the girl. But Severus's eyes were drawn to the sudden rustle in the bushes next to Greenhouse Five, and he suddenly had an awful sense of what was about to happen.

In fact, everything happened at once.

"_Illusio_!" he whispered, grabbing Avery and twirling his wand around them, just as Sirius Black launched himself out of the bushes, and Mulciber shouted,

"_Calvitium_!"

There was a flash of light; a loud bang; and Severus watched in bemusement as the Gryffindor girl's long brown hair was cut at the nape of her neck, as if a sword had swiped through it, and fell in waves to the ground.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Black shouted, and Mulciber's wand catapulted through the air. Black caught it deftly and pocketed it, but he did not turn, for a second, to deal with the girl. He was frowning, pointing his wand not at Mulciber, but at the space Severus and Avery were occupying. Severus's breath caught in his throat. Had Black _seen_ them? Did he know they were there?

"_Liberiacorpus_," Black said suddenly, pointing his wand over his shoulder, and turning quickly to catch the shivering girl. "Mary?" he muttered, crouching down, but she only gave an almost inaudible moan in response. "You're a scumbag, Mulciber," he growled, his head jerking up. One arm still around Mary, he raised his wand again. "What the fuck have you done to her?"

"It wasn't just me," Mulciber said.

Black's eyebrows shot up; he looked around again, and the thudding of Severus's heart increased. "Well, I don't see anyone else here with you, you sick bastard. Do you?"

Mulciber looked around. His expression dropped when he saw Avery and Severus had disappeared; he was alone. Crouched under the concealment of the Disillusionment Charm, Avery shot Severus a grin, but Severus could not relax – they had not yet got away with it.

Black had not lowered his wand. "You'll pay for this."

"I'm really scared," Mulciber returned sarcastically. Severus blinked – he hadn't known Mulciber could even do sarcasm – but his dorm mate paid for it; with a bang (Black never could resist the theatrics), Mulciber was thrown off his feet, and Severus saw that he was coming up in boils all over his face and neck.

"C'mon, Mary," Black muttered, and, with surprising gentleness for a murderer, Severus thought coldly, he put one of Mary's arms around his neck and lifted her. He turned away, walking back towards the castle. Severus watched him go, an overwhelming desire to curse Black from behind enveloping him. But it would be stupid, he knew; he and Avery had got away with it, for now – and it would be beyond idiotic to draw Black's attention to the fact they were there. Severus watched Black move out of sight, and then removed the Disillusionment Charm.

"That was quick thinking again, Snape," said Avery approvingly. Severus allowed himself a smug smile at this praise, but a moan from the ground distracted their attention. Severus and Avery took several steps towards Mulciber, and stood over him, examining him with interest.

"Had we better take him to the Hospital Wing?" Avery asked unenthusiastically.

Severus considered. "Nah," he said. "Potter and Black will only get suspicious how we found him so quickly. Let's get him down to the dorm. I've got a potion that'll work."

"All right, then," said Avery. "C'mon, Mulciber."

And, half laughing at their own cleverness and exhilaration, they heaved Mulciber off the ground between them and set off for the castle.

* * *

A/N: Huge thanks to cherryblossom12, ArwenFairTinuviel, HLN, dontgiveahoot, LunaSkies, previouslyjade, WillowUnicorn, and cokaserbia, all of whom have reviewed since I posted the last chapter. I'm not always very good at thanking you (and everyone else who's reviewed the last few chapters!) individually, but I love to hear from new readers and those who have followed the story from the start alike. You all totally make the hours of writing and editing worth it.


	15. Individual Skirmishes

**Disclaimer: **The world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and I do not seek to derive profit from this story. I am grateful to JK Rowling for continuing to allow writers such as myself to dabble in her world.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: Individual Skirmishes**

**18****th**** April 1976**

Euphemia Potter was, everyone agreed, one of the warmest people one could ever have the pleasure to meet. She had been the only daughter of four, in a very old wizarding family that had known the Potters well, but had been secretly rather disappointed when Euphemia had announced her intention to marry Fleamont Potter, who stood to inherit a respectable but not outstanding pile of gold from his father, Henry – a man who had caused quite the raucous up in London, it was rumoured down in the West Country, by his desire to support Muggles. In the end, Euphemia's family had been forced to eat their words – through his outstanding skill as a Potioneer, Fleamont had amassed the sort of fortune of which only the wealthiest of pureblood families could dream; further, much to their relief, he seemed to have kept his nose firmly out of Ministry business and Muggle relations, and had thereby stayed on good terms with Euphemia's family (excepting the occasional hex when one of Euphemia's brothers made an ill-advised joke about his name) until, one by one, they all died.

James had never had the opportunity to meet any of his grandparents, or uncles, all of them being dead before he was born, amid great surprise, long after Euphemia had believed herself past it. As, therefore, the only member of the family other than Fleamont and Euphemia themselves, he had been cherished as a gift from the very moment of his birth. Euphemia had a huge heart – one she had given over largely to philanthropic pursuits, now that James was at school, but she and her husband continued to shower James with affection at every opportunity. Today, it seemed, was no exception.

"Oh, darling, it's wonderful to see you," Euphemia gushed, as soon as James arrived outside the _Three Broomsticks. _She was dressed, as always, impeccably well, her short greying hair covered by a smart purple hat which matched her cloak. She seemed shorter than James remembered: as he gave her a hug, he noted that she barely came up to his chest. But when he turned to greet his father, he found that it was he who had grown.

"Finally taller than me, I see," said Fleamont Potter, giving James a clap on the back. He smiled, but his gaze flickered around the street, before he said, "Shall we go in?"

"Honestly, James, that _hair," _Euphemia said as James's father opened the door of the pub and they went inside. "What on earth will people _think?"_

"What a good-looking son you've got?" James suggested. He sat down at the table in the corner his father had reserved and grinned cheekily at his mother. He already felt better, being out of the castle and away from the dormitory he had to share with Sirius. They had not said a word to one another yet, and it was painful – James had already had to hear second-hand from the Prewett twins that Sirius had rescued Mary Macdonald, a girl in their year, from the clutches of Mulciber the previous evening. The information had unsettled James more than he wanted to admit. How was it that Sirius could be so damned contradictory? One minute he was dead set on committing murder; the next he was galavanting around Hogwarts saving Muggle-Borns in distress. It was confusing, and James was sick of trying to make sense of it.

No, it was quite the relief to get away from Hogwarts, and see his parents instead. He had been a little apprehensive that perhaps they would have been told something of the events of the full moon, but the fact that it had not yet been mentioned was a good sign. Euphemia Potter was not the sort of woman who would take the news that her only son had nearly been ripped to shreds terribly well, and would have wasted no time in pressing James for every detail, in between berating him for the worry he had put her through.

But she did not seem overly concerned now; she was reaching over to pat his hair down, looking rather exasperated. James automatically reached up to mess it up again.

"_Mum – _we've been through this," he said, as his father called Madam Rosmerta over. "Dad sold the business ages ago. I don't need to act as his personal advertisement."

"_Still, _darling, it wouldn't stop you using a little of your father's invention – _or _from going to Horace Slughorn's Potions Club; your father keeps getting letters – "

"It's not a Potions Club, it's a society breeding ground," said James.

"Here for food?" Madam Rosmerta arrived at their table, carrying three menus. She passed them round before giving James a wink. "No young Sirius Black today?"

"Not today," said James, as pleasantly as he could. In actual fact, Sirius was usually invited to these lunches – Remus and Peter too, if they were around – but for some reason on this occasion his parents had not suggested it, and James had not, of course, asked.

"How is Sirius?" his mother nonetheless questioned, as the busty barmaid moved away to deal with another customer. "Is he staying at Hogwarts for Easter too?"

"Yes, and he's fine," said James, rather more shortly than he had intended. He saw his parents exchange a glance; in a valiant attempt to change the subject, he picked up his menu. "What are you having for lunch?"

His mother was, of course, not one to be put off so easily. "Is everything all right, darling?" she asked.

"Yes, it's fine." Knowing that this, too, was unlikely to satisfy his mother, he glanced up. "I just went to bed late, that's all."

"Oh _James," _his mother scolded, in a tone that was not really scolding at all. "You do look tired, dear. Make sure you get an early night, tonight."

"I will," said James, although his exhaustion really had nothing to do with needing an early night. In truth, he had not slept well since Wednesday evening: it seemed that every time he fell asleep, his dreams were plagued with collapsing tunnels and howls; sometimes he'd dream that he hadn't got to Snape in time; other times he'd wake up in a cold sweat, convinced that Snape had successfully forced him back down the tunnel after all. It made him feel exhausted and irritable, made all the worse by the fact that Sirius emerged every morning looking as though he'd had a perfect night's rest.

He put his menu down. "When're you back from Peru, then?" He glanced at his father as he asked the question; his father had, so far, been unusually quiet. But Fleamont Potter was busy looking around the pub and didn't seem to have heard him; James's mother answered instead.

"The first of May," she said. "But honestly, darling, we can still put the trip off – "

"No, it's really OK." James had already received this offer, in the same letter that had asked to meet him in Hogsmeade for lunch, after he had told his parents that Remus and Peter were going home for Easter after all. For a moment, he had been tempted to accept, to go home for Easter, and forget all about Sirius, but he knew it was unfair. His parents had wanted to go to Peru for years, and had always been blighted by reasons to postpone it; now they were less than a day away from finally going. James could manage two weeks at Hogwarts without his friends. He tried to make his smile look genuine. "Sirius and I have loads planned for the holidays."

"Merlin help Dumbledore," his father muttered, apparently having finally tuned into the conversation.

"Ready to order?" Madam Rosmerta had appeared again.

"A mulled mead for me," said James's father. "And I'll have the pumpkin and sage tart to start, with the roast guinea-fowl to follow."

"Very good, Mr Potter," said Madam Rosmerta. "Mrs Potter?"

"A Gillywater, the soup and the sorcerer's pie," said James's mother. "James?"

"Uh…" James glanced over the menu; he had not paid it much attention yet. "The fish stew," he said quickly. "And a Butterbeer. Please."

"Don't you want anything else?" his mother asked.

James shook his head, passing the menu back to Madam Rosmerta. "I had a late breakfast." Indeed, he had passed by the kitchens not an hour before to scrounge some food, having only dragged himself from bed shortly beforehand.

"I do wish you'd ordered something else, James," his mother fretted as Madam Rosmerta bustled away again. "You're so _thin, _sweetheart."

"I'm _fine, _Mum," said James, exasperated. "I've just grown, that's all."

"I know," she said with a sigh. "Already taller than your father! I can't believe it."

James glanced at his father with a small grin, but his father, unusually, was not enjoying the battle between mother and son; he seemed distracted again, looking around the pub instead. James frowned, about to ask his father what he was looking at, but his mother diverted his attention, having found something else to worry about.

"Perhaps we'd better go to Gladrags after lunch to get you new uniform," she was saying. "You _do _look like you've grown a lot, dear. Are your trousers too short?"

"No; they're sitting low at the moment."

"Because you've lost weight!" his mother said triumphantly. James was about to roll his eyes – honestly, it was almost insulting that she kept calling him skinny – but then his father broke in.

"Leave him alone, Euphemia."

James shot him a grateful expression, but he noted that his father did not give him the jovial wink he normally did when they ganged up on James's mother together. In fact, his father looked extremely tense, he thought, registering the tightness of Fleamont Potter's jaw properly for the first time, and the absence of the usual humour in the lines characterising his face.

"Dad," he said slowly, glancing at his mother too, "is anything wrong?"

"No," said his mother immediately, as his father hesitated.

"As a matter of fact, there is," he said, and he reached into the inside pocket of his robes. James's wariness heightened; his heart sped up. Merlin – _had _Dumbledore written to his parents after all? What had he said? What had he told James's parents about Remus; about Sirius?

But when his father drew his hand back out of his pocket, James saw that it was a folded newspaper, not a letter covered in Dumbledore's elegant script.

"_Fleamont,"_ said James's mother, sounding a lot sharper than her usual gentle self.

"He needs to know, Euphemia," James's father returned, equally sharply. He unfolded the newspaper and opened it to somewhere in the middle. "Bottom of the page, son," he said, handing it to James. James took it, and, after looking between his parents, who were refusing to look at one another, he glanced down at the article to which his father was referring.

_Shock murder of pureblood's family_

James scanned the first few lines. The Astrids – he knew of them; his mother was friends with Flavius Astrid's wife, though she sometimes complained that she was a rather stuck-up woman. Her son had been murdered. James put the paper down, not wanting to read any further. Being with his parents was making him feel better; he did not want to be brought down again by something as depressing as this.

"Not exactly cheerful lunchtime reading," he said, folding the paper up again and pushing it away.

"You've read it?" his father pressed.

"No," James said. "I don't get the _Prophet _at school." Actually, none of his friends did, since they were usually too busy planning mischief, copying one another's homework or oversleeping to be bothered with reading about whatever was going on outside Hogwarts. His father looked distinctly unimpressed by this attitude, but James did not feel much like humouring him; he did not want to be brought down further by whatever the Death Eaters were doing now. "Can't we talk about something else?" he asked. "Where are you going in Peru?"

"We start in Nazca," said his mother, but his father cut across her.

"This is important, James. You need to read that."

Fleamont Potter rarely insisted that James do anything; coupled with his, so far, unusually untalkative state, James thought, his father was acting downright _weird. _But he did not appear to be about to back down; he stared at James unflinchingly through his glasses. Not bothering to hide his displeasure, James picked up the newspaper again to read the rest of the article. The facts were even more depressing than he had anticipated: he thought he remembered his mother telling him that the Astrids' eldest son had been disowned for marrying a Muggle-born, but it now appeared that he had been killed for it, together with his wife and children. The thought of them all hanging from their ceiling made James's stomach churn; he lowered the newspaper abruptly.

"It's sick," he said, putting the newspaper down again.

"Yes, it is," said his mother, as his father said: "That's not the point."

James turned to him, incredulous; his father was not normally so cold. "Then what is?" he demanded.

His mother was glaring at his father, who was busy pretending not to notice. Something unpleasant prickled at the back of James's neck.

"We just think," said his father slowly, "oh, all right, _I _think…that you need to be careful."

James frowned, this explaining nothing at all, and looked instead at his mother. She refused to meet his gaze. His father continued instead.

"Do you understand what this means?"

James glanced down at the article again. "Well, I guess it's the first time a pureblood's been deliberately targeted. Isn't it?"

"It is," his father confirmed.

"But….we're not in danger, are we?" James asked, looking between his parents. Neither of them were exactly at the forefront of pureblood politics – they were not like the Blacks, for instance, or the Malfoys, who seemed to constantly embroil themselves in one affair or another. The closest Fleamont Potter had ever got to politics was becoming a Hogwarts school governor, and that had only been because he had been flattered into it as a 'Potions ambassador'.

"Of course not," his mother said briskly.

"We're not now," was his father's answer. "But if this shows anything, it demonstrates that purebloods aren't necessarily safe anymore. They need to behave…" He swallowed and glanced at his wife. "In a certain way."

For a second James just stared. "So, what?" he said slowly. "You're saying I've got to…marry the right person?" It felt absolutely ridiculous saying it: the Potters had never been known to be snobby about marriage, and there were many of James's great-great uncles or second cousins who had married Muggles and Muggle-borns, although James's direct ancestors happened to be pureblood (more by luck than by conscious design, he'd always thought). James's own parents had never shown any inclination to arrange James's marriage for him, the way it was assumed in some pureblood families; neither of them had ever indicated that blood mattered in the slightest to them.

"Of course we aren't," his mother said firmly, shooting his father another glare. She reached across the table and covered James's hand with hers.

"I'm not exactly about to get married anyway," said James, still frowning.

"Read between the lines, son," said his father, looking somewhat exasperated. "It's not just about whom you marry. It's about showing where your loyalties lie."

Something in James's chest exploded; he pulled his hand away from his mother's.

"If you think I'm going to pretend to be in the same camp as the Malfoys, and the Lestranges, and the Averys – " he started loudly. His parents shushed him immediately; his mother looked around worriedly.

"It's not we want you to pretend to be on their side," said James's father, "we're just pointing out it might not be sensible to make which side you're on quite so obvious."

"You do have rather a tendency for getting into fights with precisely the sort of people you might want to stay on the right side of, dear. Last year we had that letter about how you'd turned Evan Rosier's boy into a toad." Mrs Potter's expression was anxious; at James's mutinous look, she reached out her hand across the table again. James ignored it.

"That's because they're bigoted idiots. Rosier bloody loves the Dark Arts."

"We're not asking you to be like them; we're asking you to keep your head down and not start duels with them." James's father looked stressed.

"That's rich," said James. "After all the duelling you did at school!"

"Not to make a political point," said his father.

"I'm not making a _political point._"

"That's what it might – _might – _be construed as."

"So, what?" said James, frustrated. "You're telling me you wouldn't have hexed all those people at school for making fun of you if they'd been into the Dark Arts?" He could not exactly articulate why, but this felt like a sort of betrayal, as though he had been brutally misled by his father, whom he had always viewed as a sort of hero for refusing to take stick from anybody. In James's mind, people who were supportive of the Dark Arts deserved doubly to be hexed, not excused from it.

"No," said James's father slowly, "but my father probably would have wanted me to be rather more careful with whom I hexed."

"Grandad stood up for Muggle relations in the Wizengamot! You can't tell me he'd have supported the Dark Arts."

"The Potters have _never _supported the Dark Arts," James's father said. "_Ever. _But Henry Potter was an exception in that he threw himself out there to be harassed, condemned and victimised. The Potters have always traditionally stayed out of politics."

"So that's what you're doing?" James demanded. "Staying out of all this?"

His parents exchanged a glance.

"James, we've already lived through one war," said his mother softly. "Grindelwald didn't have a strong foothold here, but everyone thought he might, and that was bad enough. You don't understand – you're too young – but everyone lived in fear, thinking his supporters might just come knocking on the door..."

"But what You-Know-Who's doing is wrong," said James loudly, and his parents hushed him again.

"We don't dispute that," said his father evenly. "We just don't want to see you hurt over it." At James's incredulous expression, he said, in a patient tone, "The world isn't split into fighters and Death Eaters, son. Staying out of it doesn't make you a bad person."

"No," said James angrily. "It makes you a coward." He did not miss the hurt that flashed across his father's face, but he couldn't bring himself to care: he felt as though he had been horribly let down in some way. He stood up.

"James," said his mother. She looked like she was on the verge of crying, but thankfully she didn't; James always felt awful when his mother cried. "James, darling, we're only worried about you." She turned to his father. "I _told _you he wasn't going to like it – I told you to leave it alone!"

"It's for his own good!" James's father said, sounding very frustrated. He, like James's mother, looked rather upset, but James pushed away his guilt to the back of his mind.

"Well, I'm not going to stand by while people like Evan Rosier sink into the Dark Arts," he said shortly. "Sorry to disappoint you."

And barely pausing to consider that this was the first real argument he'd ever had with his parents, James walked away from both of them, out of the Three Broomsticks, and back towards Hogwarts.

* * *

_Dear Sirius,_

_Although your mother considered a Howler more appropriate, I felt it necessary to set out our position in a way that could not be misunderstood._

_We were naturally horrified and disgusted to hear from Regulus that you had hit him in the corridor yesterday. Not only, Regulus assures us, was the attack unprovoked, but you then snapped the wand of Eldridge Selwyn's youngest son. You are well aware that Eldridge Selwyn is a close friend of the family._

_We do not understand why you are so set on behaving like a common Muggle; Regulus also tells us that you often cavort around Hogwarts in Muggle clothing, with James Potter in your wake. We hardly need remind you of what we have said on several occasions: namely that we consider James Potter to be an inappropriate and unsavoury influence. Certain of the Potter lines might have been acceptable in the past (you will recall, no doubt, that your great-aunt Dorea is married to Charlus Potter), but it is evident that Henry Potter's traitorous defence of Muggles was merely the start of the end of that family embracing the sort of ideas the House of Black would consider proper._

_We have been remarkably patient with you, over the years – being Sorted into Gryffindor, of all the Houses, and galavanting around with James Potter, a Pettigrew, and, as we understand it, a half-blood. We have endured a considerable amount of embarrassment from queries from 'concerned friends' – Eldridge Selwyn being just one of them – about your behaviour. This latest episode – brawling in corridors with your own brother – in fact got back to the Malfoys; Albraxas Malfoy was most concerned that your cousin Narcissa might not be a suitable match for his son. _

_We would like to emphasise to you now, Sirius, that this behaviour will no longer be tolerated. If it were not already too late, we would demand that you come home for the Easter holidays. As it is, we will be expecting you back for the summer. You will not be permitted to go to the Potters'. It is, frankly, about time you started to accept your responsibilities towards this family. When you return to London in June, we will be teaching you what it means to be a Black._

_Orion Black_

Sirius sat in an armchair in the corner of the Common Room, where he usually spent the evenings with his friends, bent over the letter that had arrived some half-an-hour earlier. He didn't really need to stare at it any more; he'd already read the damned thing fifty times, and he wasn't about to forget the words in a hurry. Yet when his hand balled unconsciously into a fist and the letter scrunched up under his fingers, he found himself smoothing out the parchment again, re-reading his father's elegant hand. He was dimly aware that if he stopped reading it, he might actually have to confront the meaning of it.

His parents did not write to him at school – hadn't in years; not proper letters, anyway. They point-blank refused to send any item of Muggle clothing or Gryffindor regalia he might have forgotten to pack, and had little interest in his news of what he and his friends got up to, so the usual correspondence he received from them came in the form of steaming red envelopes, whenever Sirius had done something particularly noteworthy that Professor McGonagall had had to write home about. He had been bracing himself for another Howler anyway, if he was honest; he didn't very often get into trouble with the Headmaster himself. But evidently the decision had been made somewhere that the Blacks ought not to be told there was a werewolf in Hogwarts, much less in their eldest son's dormitory. It was not Dumbledore Sirius ought to have been afraid would squeal.

Bloody Regulus. In truth, Sirius hadn't thought very much about his brother the previous evening – not with all the fuss involving Mulciber and Mary Macdonald. Almost the whole Common Room had descended on Sirius when he'd returned from taking Mary to the Hospital Wing, and in the exhaustion of retelling the story over and over again, he'd sort of forgotten about punching Regulus and snapping Selwyn's wand. Evidently, however, Regulus hadn't, and he'd wasted no time in squealing to their parents.

Gritting his teeth, Sirius scanned the letter again.

_Horrified and disgusted…_

_We consider James Potter to be an inappropriate and unsavoury influence…_

_We will be teaching you what it means to be a Black._

Sirius did not know what that final sentence meant, but it made his insides curl in a way he did not like at all. The fact Orion Black had never actually hit Sirius did not negate the fact he had an extremely violent temper. Sirius was not the sort to scare easily, but he gave an involuntary shiver he was glad no one else was around to see.

The whole summer at Grimmauld Place. The prospect of it seemed to stretch out in front of him like the life imprisonment of a man just condemned. He loathed that place, ominous and heavy with Dark Magic, with his mother's twisted, bigoted views and her snide comments about the tainted blood Sirius shared a Common Room with hammering away at him day after day until he thought he'd go mad. They usually only lasted a couple of weeks in one another's company before they had enough and Sirius was allowed to escape to the Potters' airy manor in Gloucestershire. It had not occurred to him that if James still refused to speak to him by the end of next term, he would have to spend the whole summer at Grimmauld Place anyway, but now that any chance of escape had been removed, he felt like there was lead in his stomach.

He had absolutely no doubt that his father meant what he said. It would not just be an extended version of the usual teeth-gritting bigotry he had to tolerate once a year; he was seventeen in just a few short months, and his parents would be all too aware of that fact. If they were going to bend him to their values so that he was ready to take up the family mantel, this was their last chance.

_Shit. _He should have never punched Regulus.

The thought came to him suddenly and unexpectedly, and Sirius found himself looking up from the letter at last. It was an entirely new feeling; he did not usually waste his time regretting things that had already been done. But he had a very clear sense just then that the satisfaction he had derived from punching Regulus hd not been worth the punishment he would now be forced to endure.

_What about Snape? _a snide little voice in his head asked. _Was what you did worth losing all your friends over?_

Sirius barely had time to push the thought away rather angrily when he heard the raised voice of the Fat Lady and someone arguing with her; he sat up quickly as the Fat Lady swung open, and to his complete unsurprise (he'd recognised the voice, after all), James stormed through the portrait hole and across the Common Room. At once Sirius recognised all the signs of James being furious: his fists were clenched at his sides; his hazel eyes were staring straight ahead without seeing anything around him; he was muttering under his breath about something or another. He did not seem to notice Sirius; he went directly to the boys' staircase and disappeared up them, raking one hand through his hair.

For a moment, Sirius just stared after him, wondering what had got James so wound up. Sirius had stayed well out of his way that morning, remaining in bed until James had left the dormitory, so it was nothing he'd done. Yet it took quite a lot to get James that upset – he was difficult to push.

It wasn't a great idea to go after him. Sirius knew his best friend had likely headed for the dormitory so he could be alone, and he was not on the best terms with Sirius, to state the least. But in years past, they would have relied on one another to cheer themselves up – they didn't talk much about what was bothering them, but the other could usually work it out, and would find something suitably distracting to help. The absence of James was probably why the letter from home had shaken Sirius so much; because he didn't have James to laugh it off with.

He glanced up the stairs. Maybe James was missing him just as badly.

It was worth a shot, at least.

With only the smallest amount of trepidation, Sirius stuffed the letter into his pocket and started to climb the stairs.

* * *

James burst into the dormitory with some force. It hadn't occurred to him that Sirius might be there, but the dreaded possibility came to him at the same moment he registered the dormitory was empty. For a moment, he stopped in the doorway, running a hand over his face, before he went over to his bed and sat down on it, putting his head into his hands and threading his fingers through his hair in frustration.

Even if he had read that stupid article before now, it never would have occurred to him that his parents would react like this. The Potters did traditionally stay out of politics, but they had never, ever backed down from a fight when it was needed. His grandfather had gone all the way to London on the basis that he was concerned the Muggle political situation was worsening and the Ministry was doing nothing to help. It had made him quite unpopular, but he had done it, nonetheless. And James had thought his father was the same – all right, he'd got into duels at school mainly because people insulted his name, but in doing so, he'd demonstrated he wasn't weak; that he wouldn't just roll over and accept others wronging him.

How could his parents just expect James to ignore how twisted the likes of Rosier and Mulciber were?

"Everything all right, mate?"

James's head jerked out of his hands, but it did not really need to – he would have recognised that voice anywhere. Nonetheless, he was greeted by the sight of Sirius standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets, watching James steadily. It was just like old times, really – in that second, it was easy to pretend that nothing had changed; that Sirius was just here to make sure he was OK.

But _everything_ had changed. James badly needed Sirius's humour just then – but Sirius had gone and messed everything up, hadn't he? Sirius had proved he was not the person James thought he was – just, as it seemed, his father had.

"Leave me alone," James ground out between gritted teeth.

Sirius merely raised his eyebrows; he took a step into the room and closed the door behind him. It made James feel oddly boxed in; he eyed Sirius warily.

"What's got a Bowtruckle in your bonnet?" Sirius asked.

James fixed him with a glare he was sure should have sent even the bravest Gryffindor cowering. Sirius only stared back at him, unfazed.

"What's happened?" he pressed. When James said nothing, he gave a tight smile. "Whatever it is, I bet the letter I got earlier beats it."

His tone was laden with irony; and James knew instinctively that Sirius's letter had been from home. If James had asked, Sirius might have told him what it said and they could have had a good laugh about it; Walburga Black was off her rocker. But for some reason – perhaps it was the fact he'd just argued with his own parents – the reminder of Sirius's family only riled James up further.

"Proud of you, are they?" he spat out. "Wrote home and told them how you're upholding the family values, did you?"

Sirius's expression dropped so fast it was as though James had hexed it off; his grey eyes flashed. James felt immensely satisfied at this: he was sick of avoiding Sirius; sick of tiptoeing around him; when all he wanted to do was take Sirius by the shoulders and demand where the hell he thought he got off, trying to murder one of their classmates.

"Obviously not," Sirius said, his voice low and angry. "Else I'd have had to tell them I share my dorm with a werewolf, wouldn't I?"

"Oh, sorry," James returned. "I didn't think you worried about telling other people about Remus's secret."

For a moment, he thought Sirius might step forward and hit him; he would have welcomed it. But Sirius simply stood where he was, his fists clenched by his sides.

"I told you," he said tightly. "Snape _already knew."_

"So you decided to turn yourself and Moony into murderers?" James got up; he walked over to where Sirius was standing so that they were staring at one another. "Yeah, I see the logic in that."

"I was trying to _protect _Moony!" Sirius burst out, his temper finally getting the better of him, as James had known it would. "I don't see why you've got such a problem with that!"

"I don't have a problem with _that – _I've got a problem with you trying to murder someone!"

"Will you _stop calling it that? _It wasn't _murder_ – Snape bloody _wanted _to find a werewolf!"

"Well, I suppose that's the difference between us, isn't it? I don't reckon morbid curiosity makes you a deserving victim – "

"You usually do," Sirius bit out. There was an angry flush in his cheeks. James glared.

"Don't try and make out like we're the same, Sirius. Merlin knows, I fucking _hate _Snape – but I wouldn't have tried to feed him to a werewolf. Especially not to Moony. Bloody _hell – _if he'd been killed, Lupin would've…"

Sirius's expression was mutinous. "Well, obviously," he said, with some obvious difficulty, "I didn't quite think the whole thing through. But don't you bloody dare tell me that makes me the same as my family, Potter."

James could not remember a time when Sirius had called him by his last name.

"Whatever you think – however stupid you think it was," Sirius continued, his voice back under control but barely, "I did do it to protect Remus. You think my family has ever done anything for anyone other than themselves? And you think they would've wasted time messing around with a werewolf? If they wanted to get rid of someone, you know as well as I do that my cousin Bellatrix would've looked him in the eye and cast the Killing Curse. I didn't do that. All I did was tell him how to get past the Willow _if _he wanted to." Now that Sirius had started, it was as though he couldn't stop; and James, who wanted to tell him that none of it mattered, because it was still bloody _killing _someone, found his throat suddenly dry; the words would not come. "And now," Sirius went on, "Remus thinks I did it because I bloody hate him, _which is clearly bollocks – _and you won't speak to me because you think I'm just a Black with the rest of them."

Still James was silent. He knew, somewhere deep down, that Sirius had a certain point; that it was unfair to compare him to the likes of his cousin Bellatrix, because maybe Sirius had some dubious morals, but he did hate the Dark Arts, and he could not have killed Snape outright. Hadn't he saved Mary Macdonald from the clutches of Mulciber the previous evening?

Sirius seemed to realise James's hesitation. "I know this maybe isn't what Lupin would've chosen," he said, taking a step forward. "But it's got to be better, hasn't it? At least Snape's got to keep his mouth shut now – "

"But that's just it, isn't it?" James ground out, and he realised, at that moment, that it wasn't just fear that _he_ had got Sirius all wrong that was bothering him so much; it was fear that Sirius had ruined everything. "We don't _know _he'll keep his mouth shut! At least before he couldn't be sure – but he _saw _Moony; if we piss him off at _any _time, he might just decide that keeping his mouth shut isn't worth it! And d'you know what else? We can't let him get _himself _expelled – ever, for anything – because if he does, he's got no reason to stay quiet!"

"Well, I can't do anything about that now!" Sirius bit back. "It's done. And if that's the problem you've got with it, I don't know why you're so angry, because he _already knew!"_

"But you _tried to kill him!" _James shouted.

They were going round in circles. Sirius seemed to realise it at the same time as James; his grey eyes were suddenly cool, full of resentment.

"Fine," he said evenly. "If that's the way you want it to be. Go ahead and think of me as a murderer – as a _Black._ But I only did it to help Remus. And that should make all the difference."

James wanted to say, "It doesn't", but the look Sirius was giving him, as if James had let him down in the worst possible way, was making something twist painfully in his chest. Things ought to have been straightforward – but the waters suddenly felt much murkier, less clear. But then Remus's face as James told him what had happened popped into his mind once more, and James was furious with himself. He pushed past Sirius, yanked open the door, and stormed away for the second time that day, leaving his former best friend staring after him.

* * *

The library was full, but quiet, most students silently working through the revision they had only just started, still motivated by the fact they were still in top of their revision timetables, the exams far enough away that they weren't yet filled with despair. Lily had managed to nab her favourite table, and she was alone. It should have been easy to work.

But she was restless.

She was restless, for the most part, because Avery and Mulciber were sitting a few tables along, and they looked far too pleased with themselves. They were laughing – silently – at something, and Lily bent her head lower over her third year Charms notes, trying to ignore them. She was not in the habit of outright disliking people, but she couldn't stand either of them. She wondered, with a twist in her gut, if that was where Severus had been spending all his time in the last few days, so that she had not spoken to him since the rumours about the Whomping Willow had erupted on Thursday. And it was made all the worse by the knowledge of what Mulciber had tried to do to Mary Macdonald the previous evening.

Lily gritted her teeth now, thinking about it. Gideon and Fabian Prewett had come back to the Common Room just before curfew, and had told everyone there that they'd run into Sirius Black carrying Mary Macdonald, who looked in a very bad way. Black had told them that he'd found Mulciber practising spells on her. When Black himself had returned to the Common Room, he had patiently repeated the same story: he had been out taking a walk, when he had run across Mulciber, obviously practising spells on her, and as he'd confronted him, the Slytherin had cut off all her hair. In fact, Madam Pomfrey had told him, Mulciber had attempted a Dark spell known as the Baldness Curse – if he'd succeeded, all of Mary's hair would have fallen out and no amount of magic could ever have persuaded it to grow back. As it was, Mary would have short hair for the rest of her life. But it was preferable, Lily supposed, to what might have happened.

Mary was in Lily's year, although Lily did not know her very well; Mary was friends with Alvina Carrington, as well as a host of quite snotty girls from Ravenclaw, although Mary had never struck Lily as the overly snobby sort. Most of them had gone home for the holiday; it occurred to Lily that it really would be a kindly gesture to go and see Mary in the Hospital Wing later.

Meanwhile, Mulciber had, it was rumoured, been let off lightly, with two detentions and fifty points taken from Slytherin. It was reported that he had claimed he'd had no idea it was a Dark spell, or that it would even cause permanent baldness, and Slughorn – as usual – had given him the benefit of the doubt. In Lily's opinion, even ignoring the fact that Dark Magic had been used, Mulciber deserved a harsher punishment: there was something fundamentally creepy and horrible about the fact that he had enjoyed dangling Mary upside down, with her knickers on show.

Worse, he now seemed to be a minor celebrity amongst the Slytherins staying at school for the holidays. Even the sixth and seventh year students had been crowded around Mulciber at breakfast; and, to Lily's dread, Avery and Severus had been sitting right beside him. The sight had made Lily feel sick. It was obvious why the Slytherins thought Mulciber's actions so admirable – and the fact that even Severus had jumped on their blood purity ideology made Lily want to cry.

She took a deep breath; tried to focus on her notes again. But the words were blurry on the page, her real worry surfacing and taking over her attentions. What if, she thought, Mulciber had learned that baldness spell at the meetings the Slytherins held to discuss Dark Magic? Severus had promised not to use it, but he hadn't made the same promise for his House mates and Lily had known at the time that she was naïve to think that, for them, it was purely theoretical. But could she sit idly by whilst these spells were being used on fellow students?

_God, _if _only _Severus were not mixed up in all of it! Lily would have told Dumbledore or McGonagall in a heart beat. But if she told, Severus would be expelled.

But what if Mary had only been attacked because Lily had stayed quiet?

Lily put her papers down, massaging her temples. Mulciber would hate Muggle Borns whether or not he was part of that Slytherin club; he had called Lily herself a Mudblood in their very first Potions class. But the spell he had tried to use on Mary…

Lily became aware that someone was standing over her; she looked up to see the very last person she felt like speaking to.

"Hi," said Severus. He was clutching several books; his bag was slung over his shoulder. "Can I sit?"

He had not sought her out in days. But after a few minutes of gaping, Lily recovered herself and moved her stack of notes and books to one side, allowing Severus to take the seat next to her.

"Nice day again, isn't it?" he said, as though things were perfectly ordinary between them.

"You must be joking," said Lily, raising her eyebrows. Severus stared blankly back at her.

"The sun's out," he said.

"Not _that,_" Lily said, a little louder than she'd intended. It earned her a glare from the librarian and she leaned forward. "Where've you been?" she whispered fiercely.

"Around," said Severus vaguely. At Lily's glare he added defensively, "I've been busy. But we always study on a Sunday afternoon together…"

This had been true once upon a time. But their study sessions had become less and less frequent as of late; Lily couldn't remember the last time they'd done it. Sometimes it was a Hogsmeade weekend; sometimes, Lily liked to lie about in the Gryffindor Common Room after a heavy Sunday brunch; sometimes, one of them had simply finished all their homework already and didn't show. Even Severus must have remembered this, because he looked away at Lily's pitying gaze.

"It's not like you've been looking for me," he said.

This was such an outright lie, after he had deliberately avoided her at lunch the other day, that Lily could not possibly take it lying down. But as she opened her mouth furiously, a lazy drawl cut across her.

"Look, Mulciber, Snape's talking to his pet Mudblood again."

It was said in a low voice, but it was obvious that Lily and Severus were supposed to hear, and she recognised Avery's voice immediately. Beside her, Severus had paled.

"Ignore them," he said.

Lily had every intention of doing just that, but she gave Severus a cold look for suggesting it.

"It's just a word," he defended.

"Just a word?" Lily couldn't keep the incredulity from her whisper. "You know that's not true. It's conveying exactly what they think of me – that my blood's mud, that I shouldn't be at Hogwarts."

"Then they're stupid," said Severus, although his voice was very low indeed. "You beat them in every class."

"You think they care about my marks?"

But Severus was already trying to move away from the subject; he was rifling through his notes, pulling out a Charms textbook and lots of crumpled pieces of parchment. Lily watched him for a few seconds, before she pulled her own notes towards her again, trying to push away the bitter disappointment she felt at Severus's attempts to brush over Avery's comment. It's not that the comment itself bothered her – although it did, a little; it was Severus's steadfast refusal to stick up for the Muggle Born population at large. Her Gryffindor House mates last night had wasted no time in denouncing Mulciber's actions towards Mary, professing shock that Mulciber would dare to do this to a Muggle Born; outrage that, as a pureblood, he thought himself entitled. Any of Lily's other friends would have hexed Avery by now. But Severus just sat there, apparently engrossed in his notes.

"Wonder when he'll come to his senses and ditch her," said Mulciber, a little louder. "Even as a half-blood he ought to be above that scum."

Severus's gaze shot up from his notes, at Lily, who stared coolly back, and then back down at his revision. He really wasn't going to tick them off, she realised. He was content to sit there while his dorm mates – his friends – sat there and made these comments.

"Thought he didn't like her that much anyway," Avery said snidely. "Maybe she would've been a better choice than Macdonald, eh, Mulciber?"

"Ah, no, Snape would've got all upset if we'd picked on his Mudblood."

Severus did not look up this time. In fact, he was concentrating so hard on his notes, Lily knew it had to be forced. With a burst of irritation, she snapped her textbook shut and gathered up her notes.

"Where are you going?" Severus asked.

"Elsewhere," she replied shortly, before she hurried out of the library, trying in vain to blink back her tears. Whether they were out of fury or hurt, she wasn't sure. She just kept thinking of her conversation with Alice and Marlene a few days before – their staunch refusal to abandon her, even though they put themselves in danger by doing so. And here was Severus, who would not even tell off his _awful _friends for calling her names! Lily gritted her teeth as she continued to storm through the hallways. It wasn't _him, _she had to remind herself; this wasn't Severus. It was Avery and Mulciber, who were exerting this influence over him. Severus had told her himself that it didn't make a difference, being Muggle Born. It certainly mattered to Mulciber and Avery – but why did he continue to hang around with them? she thought furiously. They were both vile, absolutely vile...

Lily had not really had a clear plan in mind when she had left the library, and she had stalked through the corridors without aim; but she very suddenly found herself outside, blinking in the bright sunlight. It helped, being out of the castle: the sight of the lake, still as glass, the blue sky, and the grass, bright green from all the rain they'd had, helped to calm Lily's mind. Taking a deep sigh, she set off down the hill, towards the beech tree, where she knew she'd be able to get some shade and perhaps take out her Charms notes again.

It was still quite early; there were not many people out. But as Lily neared the beech tree, she saw someone was already underneath it, their back resting against the trunk and their long legs stretched out in front of them as they stared out over the lake. As Lily watched, he pushed his glasses up his nose, and reached up to run a hand through his dark hair, making it stick up in all directions.

For a moment, Lily hesitated. She did not particularly want to talk to anyone, least of all James Potter, to whom she had not spoken since she had kissed his cheek three nights ago, and with whom things were bound to be slightly awkward. But as she was about to turn away, Potter suddenly turned his head – not sufficiently to catch sight of her, but enough so that Lily had a clear view of the totally frustrated expression on his face. And she stopped.

Lily had never, ever been able to refuse anyone in need; Marlene liked to joke that if Lily ever came upon Rabastan Lestrange crying, she'd nudge up next to him and offer him a chocolate frog. It was just in her nature; she couldn't stand the idea of someone being upset and doing nothing to help. And though it seemed perverse that _James Potter_, of all people, could need help – the same Potter who generally had a different quip or smirk for every day of the week – somehow Lily felt her legs propelling her forward, and in less than a minute, she was standing over her fellow House mate.

Sensing her presence, Potter looked up.

"Evans!" He sounded simultaneously surprised and nervous; his hand immediately flew to his hair again, ruffling it up at the back.

"Is that deliberate?" she asked. "Making it look like you've just finished a Quidditch match?"

"You reckon it does?" He looked rather pleased; Lily nearly rolled her eyes as he reached up to mess it up _again_. "What brings you here?" he asked her.

"Driven from the library," said Lily shortly. "Mind if I sit?"

"Er...no; course." He shifted over, so that she could sit in the shade; tucking her skirt underneath her, she sat down on the grass, mimicking him by leaning against the tree and stretching her legs out in front of her. She was struck by how pale they looked. She glanced at Potter. He seemed to be trying rather hard not to look at her legs.

"What brings _you_ out here?" she asked. She could not remember a time when she had ever seen James Potter sitting by himself; he was always in the thick of things, usually the centre of attention. But then, she supposed, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew had gone home; and it had been painfully obvious over the last few days that James Potter had fallen out in a big way with Sirius Black. No one could recall a single day when those two had not been joined at the hip; but ever since the rumours about Severus and the Whomping Willow had erupted, Potter and Black had not been seen together. Marlene had commented how odd this was several times, but no one seemed to know what had caused their falling out.

The fact Potter was out here by himself served only to underline that they had still not made it up.

But if Lily had expected him to open his heart to her at the lightest prod, she was disappointed. He merely shrugged.

"I thought you were going for lunch with your parents?" pressed Lily, who had heard him getting permission from Professor McGonagall the previous evening.

This was, evidently, the wrong thing to say; something in Potter's face tightened, before he let out a sigh. "Yeah." He looked out over the lake for a minute, seemingly lost in thought, before he gave Lily a sidelong glance. "So what drove you from the library? The slightly manic look the Hufflepuffs have taken on? I swear they're going to start eating one another any day now."

"No," said Lily, but she couldn't help a small giggle. The Hufflepuffs _did _seem to have got a bit loopy since the term had ended: there seemed to be great gaggles of them in the library, furiously comparing revision timetables and swapping notes faster than Lily could keep up. Frank Longbottom, who was a Prefect, had already warned Lily to watch out for any dodgy-looking 'revision-aids' – according to him, the Hufflepuffs had been the worst for it the year before, and the least damaging of the substances had been crushed cockroaches.

"Then what?" Potter asked. "I mean, I can understand not wanting to be in the library, but – "

It was nothing," Lily interrupted. "Idiots making stupid comments, that's all."

"Gits," Potter said, but his gaze was shrewd; he looked like he suspected he knew exactly the sort of comments that had driven her from the library. "You shouldn't listen to them," he said abruptly. "You'd beat any of them in a duel, hands down." He wasn't looking at her, but the back of his neck had gone quite red, Lily noticed. She was blushing herself; she quickly changed the subject.

"Did you hear about Mary MacDonald?"

It was nearly impossible that he had not heard; it had been all Gryffindor could talk about the previous evening. But he had gone up to bed early, Lily remembered – before Sirius Black had come back.

"Yes," he said shortly. "I heard." Something Lily hadn't seen before crossed his features – anger. "Arrogant bastard," he bit out. "Throwing Dark Magic around – I bet she didn't do anything to provoke him." The venom in his voice was palatable; he glowered as he looked across the lake. "I would've bloody stuffed him in that Vanishing Cabinet on the first floor and left him there to rot."

Lily wondered if his anger and frustration was purely to do with Mulciber.

"Sirius found her, didn't he?" she said tentatively.

Something in Potter's face closed up immediately. "Apparently." He sounded very much as though he was trying to keep his voice controlled.

"So you're still not speaking?" Lily clarified, to be sure.

"No." Potter's tone said quite plainly that he did not wish to talk about it, but Lily was not the sort of person to leave things alone.

"Is this the longest you've ever gone without talking?"

Potter glanced at her, and away again. "Does it matter?" But he leaned his head back against the tree trunk and looked so thoroughly fed up that Lily knew it did.

"Is what he's done really worth all this?" she asked gently.

Potter turned his head sharply. "How do you know it's something _he's _done?"

"I was the one who took him to the Hospital Wing after Remus hexed him; I'm not an idiot."

Potter was silent. Lily thought he was simply refusing to discuss it – Sirius Black had certainly been adamant enough that he wasn't going to say a word – but then to her surprise, Potter muttered, "I don't know anymore." He cleared his throat. "Whether it's worth all this," he clarified, waving his arms around to make his point. He let them drop into his lap and leaned his head back again. "If…" He trailed off; started again. "If someone turned out not to be the person you thought they were, would you still be friends with them?"

For a split second, Lily's mind jumped to Severus, sitting in the library, and she wondered if _he_ was really the person she'd thought he was. She pushed the thought hurriedly away, trying to concentrate on what Potter was asking.

"I suppose," she said carefully, "that depends on what it is he's supposed to have done."

Potter's face closed up again; he was, it seemed, as tight-lipped on this subject as Black. Lily tried again.

"OK," she said. "Well, I suppose it depends whether it really does change who they are, in your mind." It was rather difficult to poke around in this subject matter without knowing what it was that Sirius Black had done, but Lily tried to do her best. "You know, sometimes people do things that seem like they're really out of character, but it's actually quite consistent if you start thinking about it." Potter looked very doubtful; somewhat reluctantly, Lily decided to give him an example. "Like…my sister's a Muggle. She was…um, pretty horrible to me, actually, when I got my Hogwarts letter; said all sorts of things about witches and what a rotten time I was going to have. And then I found out she'd actually written to Dumbledore and asked him if _she _could come to Hogwarts!" If Petunia knew that she was telling someone else this story, she would absolutely hit the roof, but the chances of her ever finding out were extremely minimal; it wasn't like Potter was ever going to meet her sister. "That seemed really weird," she continued, "considering everything Tuney had said about Hogwarts. Then I just realised she'd said it all out of jealousy – she didn't really _mean _it."

Potter had been watched her with rapt attention. "Do you get on with her now?" He seemed to have been entirely distracted from the matter of his best friend, and, for a moment, Lily was glad, but she did not much fancy getting into the ins and outs of her troubled relationship with her sister just then.

"Irrelevant," she said, as gently as she could. "The point is that whatever Sirius Black's done, you can probably understand it if you really think about it."

Potter deflated again almost immediately. "Probably not," he muttered. "This is…pretty bad." He looked thoroughly miserable; and it occurred to Lily that she probably never seen James Potter anything but cheerful before Thursday. Whatever it was – the stuff about saving Severus, the argument with Sirius Black – had really, truly got to him.

"Well," she said slowly, "I don't want to invalidate the way you feel about it, obviously. But I can't really imagine that it's as bad as you think it is. Anyone who rescues Mary Macdonald from the clutches of Mulciber can't be so awful, can they?"

Potter muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Bloody contradiction." Lily had to fight not to let her lips twitch; instead, she said:

"Well, he's obviously against Dark Magic, so that's a good starting point. That ought to commend anyone right now in my book."

Potter was watching her; she thought she might have got through to him. But then he said: "Don't you reckon people can do other bad stuff? That's not Dark Magic?"

"Of course they can." Lily fidgeted with the hem of her skirt. "I suppose what I'm saying is that, you know, unless people really are inherently bad, they usually do stuff for an understandable reason – a forgivable reason."

"Maybe." Potter's voice was quiet. "He's…he's not an aspiring Death Eater; I guess you can say that much."

"Well, not many people are," said Lily with a small, nervous laugh. But Potter gave her a sharp look and the laughter died on her lips. "Oh, come on," she said. "You don't think – "

"Yes, I do," he said, but Lily was already thinking about what Frank Longbottom had said: that he thought because of the attack on the Astrids, more Muggle-Borns might be attacked in Hogwarts… How could she have been so _naïve_? People like Avery and Mulciber – and others in that House, like Nott and Lestrange – didn't just like Dark Magic for the sake of it; they didn't go around flaunting their blood supremacy ideas because they felt like it. It was because there was a war on outside Hogwarts' walls which lent their ideas legitimacy, which made them feel more powerful, more invincible, and which they very much wanted to be part of.

Lily suddenly had an overwhelming desire to stalk back to the library and yank Severus away from the clutches of Avery and Mulciber. They were tainting him with their ideas; making him feel powerless against them. Involuntarily, she shivered.

Potter's arm jerked, as though he had thought about putting it around her; instead, he raised it to the back of his neck, rubbing it awkwardly. Lily might have laughed if it hadn't been feeling so wretched. But he was watching her carefully.

"So...er...what've you been revising?" he asked.

For a second, the question caught Lily so off-guard, she simply stared, before she realised that Potter was making a valiant attempt to change the subject.

"Oh, er..." She reached for her bag, opened it, and took out the Charms notes resting near the top. Without asking, Potter snatched them from her, rifling through them.

"Cheering Charms?" he asked, with a slightly incredulous tone.

"You could do with one of those," she said, trying to snatch her notes back. He held them high, out of her reach, still reading them.

"_Colour-Changing Charms? _Evans, you could do this with your eyes closed. Asleep, even."

"I need to know the theory."

He raised his eyebrows, evidently amused. "You _know _the theory," he said. "Else you wouldn't be able to do it."

"Careful," she said. "I might just check I can, unless you give me those notes back."

Potter raised his eyebrows. "What're you going to do, turn my skin green?"

Lily slipped her wand out of her pocket. He eyed it warily. "Notes, Potter," she said, beckoning with her other hand.

He smirked and held them higher. Lily glared at him, and then directed her wand upwards, muttering the incantation under her breath.

He should not have been able to feel anything change, but perhaps he'd worked out what she'd been aiming at, or perhaps it was the giggle that erupted from Lily's mouth, but Potter's hand flew to his hair, feeling around, as though checking that his messy mop was still there.

"What've you done?" he demanded. "Evans!" he said loudly, as Lily burst into peals of laughter, holding her sides. "Evans!"

"Oh, only turned it yellow, you prat," said Lily, straightening up. Potter looked outraged.

"You've turned me into a _Hufflepuff?_"

"You look delightful in yellow."

"Change it back!"

"Can't you do it?" said Lily sweetly. "Since you're so clever?"

It was a bit of a risk, suggesting that James Potter pull out his wand; he was liable to give her a moustache or something. But in fact all he did was to point to his own head. Lily nearly rolled her eyes – how precious about his hair _was _he? – but to her surprise, his hair did not immediately turn jet black; suddenly, it was black and yellow stripes, like some sort of strange bumblebee. Lily raised her eyebrows.

"You might want to consider revising Colour-Changing Charms yourself, Potter," she said.

"Nah," said Potter. "I thought if you were going to make me look like a Hufflepuff, at least do the job properly." He grinned, and Lily giggled, putting a hand over her mouth.

"Yellow doesn't much suit you," she said. "I think the Sorting Hat got it right."

"Rubbish," said Potter. "Wait till I show you my noble badger…"

He stood up, looking around. Just as Lily was wondering if badger was a euphemism for something, he seemed to spot what he was looking for in the grass, and pointed his wand at it.

What appeared to have been a beetle suddenly grew in size; Lily shrank backwards, but it was morphing, sprouting grey, black and white hair all over its body, the front of its face elongating into a pointy snout, two of its legs shrinking and disappearing and the other four becoming stubby and furry, until, finally, a badger stood before Lily. It sniffed her feet for several seconds, before it suddenly bolted off towards the Forest, running as fast as its little legs would carry it.

"Wait!" Potter shouted after it. "You're supposed to be..." But he trailed off, turning back to Lily. "So much for badgers being loyal," he said, looking disgruntled.

Lily was finding it difficult to mask how impressed she was. "That was a really hard bit of Transfiguration," she said.

"Was it?" said Potter airily. But as he flicked his wand to change his hair back to its normal sooty black, and threw himself on the ground next to her, Lily thought she caught a hint of smugness. He _knew _how difficult that spell was; in fact, had possibly done it only to show off.

But as he grinned, and scooped up her notes again, Lily could not quite bring herself to care. Though it had been Lily to approach the forlorn-looking James Potter, and arrogant prat though he certainly was, there was no mistaking that Potter had done his very best to cheer her up, and had succeeded.

* * *

**A/N: **Please accept my apologies for the lateness of this chapter. Real life intervened. I started a new job, put an offer in on a flat (for which I had to negotiate a mortgage), and my and my partner's much beloved cat got very ill, which required us driving up and down the motorway to a cat hospital (I kid you not), and spending out thousands of pounds (pet insurance is your friend, people – I will never, ever not insure a pet again). Sadly, after all this, the vet discovered advanced cancer and we had to put her down. This was very upsetting, as I'm sure any of you with animals will understand.

So, with that life dump out of the way, I'd like to say something further. I am so, unbelievably grateful for those of you who stick with the story despite my slow updates, and your reviews really make my day. I'm sitting here now having developed a very heavy cold (of course I have), but I really felt I owed it to you to get this chapter out this weekend. So please do understand when I'm slow in updating, it's not because I don't value the time you plough into reading this story. It was a tad upsetting, however, on top of everything else, to receive a couple of reviews that could be construed as harassing me to update. It's always nice to hear when people are really keen for an update, because it shows how much they're enjoying the story, but pointing out how long it's been since I've updated or trying to guilt-trip me into updating really doesn't help. Please try to be sensitive when you post reviews – to any author – as they often really do want to update, but can't find the time for good reasons.

**OK**, moan over. I really hoped you enjoyed this chapter. I know there's a lot of arguing and tension at the moment, and I can't promise that'll stop from here, but I do promise to have some element of reconciliation somewhere in the next chapter! Hopefully that'll give you something to stew over. Do, of course, drop me a line to let me know what you think, and thanks again to everyone who reviewed the last chapter.


	16. The Soul is Mightier than the Sword

Disclaimer: Everything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling, and I am grateful for the continued privilege to play in her universe.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: The Soul is Mightier than the Sword**

**19****th**** April 1976**

Lily Evans and Mary Macdonald were not friends.

Well, more precisely, Lily was not sure if the two of them were officially Not Friends, or whether they simply did not know one another that well.

It was an odd situation to be in with someone with whom she had shared a dorm for nearly five years. Admittedly Mary herself had never said much that indicated she didn't like Lily, but the main problem was that she was best friends with Alvina Carrington, and if one thing was certain, it was that Alvina didn't like Lily. It was, in a way, a great pity that things had worked out this way: for when Lily had first arrived at Hogwarts, she had assumed that she and Mary, as the only Muggle-Borns in their dorm, would be great friends – bonding over things like the weird absence of electricity in the castle. But it had taken mere hours for Mary and Alvina to form a close, inseparable bond; and these days they seemed to spend most of their time with a group of wealthy, pretty Ravenclaws. Lily's female friends, on the other hand, were mainly Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, with the one exception of Dorcas Meadowes – a voraciously bright girl in Ravenclaw, who liked to complain frequently that her own dorm was full of catty airheads.

It was thus with some trepidation that Lily headed to the Hospital Wing late the next morning to visit her dorm mate, clutching a box of Sugar Quills in one hand. She had promised herself that she would, since nearly all of Mary's friends had gone home for the holidays, but it felt less and less like a good idea the nearer she got to the ward. Mary might not even want to see her. Lily didn't know that she would have been that thrilled to see a practical stranger after a traumatic experience like Mary's.

Or perhaps she was just trying to dodge a task that she knew might be a little uncomfortable.

Still, it took a certain level of willpower to push open the door of the Hospital Wing. Yet as Lily stepped inside, she realised it was eerily empty. The beds stood in two long rows, neat and devoid of occupants, and Madam Pomfrey's tiny office was open but devoid of its usual inhabitant. For a moment, Lily thought that Mary must have been released that morning, but then she saw a girl with short hair, sitting up in a chair next to the window which looked out onto the quad. A book was open in her lap, but she didn't appear to be reading it: she was instead fiddling with the mangled ends of her brown hair. She looked completely different from the Mary Lily had always known: Mary was very proud of her long, wavy hair, even though Marlene had commented rudely a number of times that it was too thin.

At that moment, Lily's nerves nearly got the better of her. Mary did not look especially in the mood for visitors, least of all the dorm mate her best friend Alvina despised.

But Lily's legs propelled her forward, as if they alone could remember that Lily had come in the first place because it seemed the kindly thing to do. Her footsteps were not terribly soft, but Mary was so engrossed in inspecting her hair she did not notice Lily until she was perhaps ten steps away. Her gaze suddenly snapped up at the unexpected intrusion, her eyes narrowing as Lily halted in front of her.

"If you're here to see Madam Pomfrey, she's gone to lunch," Mary said. She sounded rather haughty – quite like Alvina – and she lifted her chin a little, as if in challenge. It was exactly the welcome – or lack thereof – that Lily had feared.

"Actually, I'm here to see you," said Lily.

"Me?" Mary's expression turned blank. "Why?"

Lily winced internally, unsure whether this had been an even worse idea than she'd imagined.

"I wanted to make sure you were OK," she said slowly. "I heard what happened with Mulciber. And I…um, brought you these." It suddenly felt stupid, having brought the Sugar Quills – how could a sweet convey what Lily felt about what Mary had gone through? But she held them out anyway, and Mary, after blinking at her for several seconds, took them from her.

"These are my favourite," said Mary. She sounded quite strange.

"They're mine too," said Lily, taking heart from this confession. "I was saving them for revision, but I decided your need was greater than mine."

Mary raised her head again. She was looking at Lily curiously, as though she did not quite know what to make of her. "You didn't need to do that."

Lily shrugged. "Can I sit?"

Mary gave her that odd look again, but thankfully didn't question her this time. "I guess."

It was difficult not to wonder if Mary was purposefully rude or so affected by her encounter with Mulciber that she had forgotten how to react to kindness, thought Lily as she perched on the edge of the closest bed, and watched Mary tuck a strand of her short hair behind her ear.

"You look much better than I thought you would," said Lily, trying to be kind. "When Sirius told us – "

"Oh God, has he told everyone?" Mary said, suddenly sounding much more like her normal self. Although she frequently tried to mimic the upper-class Alvina, and though she came from a much wealthier background than Lily did, she had a broad Yorkshire accent she didn't always manage to hide. "That's why McGonagall was in here yesterday, demanding to know what I could remember." She rolled her eyes and yanked at the ends of her hair again.

"I expect she's just trying to help," said Lily gently. "Madam Pomfrey probably told her."

"Well, I don't want her help," said Mary. "When I said I couldn't remember any of it, McGonagall wanted to get Dumbledore to recover my memories. I told her: I don't _want _to remember it. Who'd want to remember that _creep _doing…whatever he did?"

Lily had nothing to say to this; she thought privately _she_ probably would want to recover her memories, if only to get Mulciber expelled.

"I hope no one's going to mention it," said Mary, folding her arms. "I don't want any fuss. I just want to be left alone."

"People aren't gossiping about it," said Lily quickly. "Sirius only told the Gryffindors – we're just worried about you; nothing else."

"Everyone?" Mary asked rather skeptically.

"Everyone."

Mary eyed her for a moment. "You don't count," she said finally. "You're Muggle-Born too. You're just afraid it will happen to you."

Lily's eyebrows shot up, unable to mask her surprise that Mary, of all people, would point out her parentage. "It's not just me," she said, trying to keep her temper in check. "Sirius saved you, didn't he? He's as pureblood as they come."

"Alvina says – " Mary stopped quite abruptly; whatever Alvina usually said about Sirius Black, she had obviously thought better of sharing with Lily. "Well," she said, folding her arms more tightly, "like I said, I just want to be left alone."

Lily had to fight the urge to get up and leave; Mary was so ungrateful. But something held her in her place; perhaps it was Mary's obsession with fiddling with her hair, or how she was now avoiding looking at Lily directly. In any case, Lily was beginning to suspect that somewhere under all that defensiveness, Mary was a lot more upset about all this than she was letting on.

"Your hair looks really nice short," she said, attempting to change the subject.

Mary reached up and pulled at the ends of her hair again, looking rather irritable. "It looks awful."

"Well, it needs to be evened off," said Lily reasonably. "But you suit short hair – it looks really grown up."

"You think so?" Mary attempted to sound nonchalant, but her hopeful expression betrayed how much this compliment meant to her.

"Absolutely," said Lily firmly. "Anyway, I bet someone will cut it properly for you – Alvina, or one of the girls from Ravenclaw – "

Mary's expression closed up again; she looked down at the Sugar Quills in her lap. "They've all gone home. Last minute decision."

"Not quite all of them," Lily pressed. "You're friends with Sophia Shafiq, aren't you? She's still here – "

"She won't do it."

"Why not?"

"_Drop it, Evans," _Mary snapped, and Lily closed her mouth immediately. Evidently, she had hit a sore spot, although she was not quite sure how. Mary sighed and rubbed one side of her face. "Sorry," she said after a pause. "I just…" She trailed off, and Lily took over.

"It's all right," she said kindly. "You've been through an awful ordeal – "

"Yeah." Mary didn't seem very convinced. After a moment she said, her voice low: "I'm not friends with Sophia anymore."

"Er – " Lily wasn't quite sure what to make of this. "Right."

"I'm not friends with any of them anymore." Mary picked at imaginary fluff on her lap. She drew in a deep breath. "That's why nearly all of them have gone home. They told me we couldn't be friends now."

"Why not?" Lily asked, but she already had a dreadful suspicion as to what Mary was going to say.

"Because I'm a _Mudblood," _the girl suddenly spat, balling up her hand into a fist and bringing it down on the arm of the chair. Her mouth was hard with resentment. "They said it was too dangerous for them, after what happened to the Astrids." Her jaw jutted forward with determination, but it was evident that she was trying very hard not to cry. Lily couldn't blame her.

"Mary, that's awful."

"Yeah, well." Mary blinked, somehow managing to hold back the shine in her eyes. "McKinnon and Hornwick will do the same to you, once they read that article."

"They've read it," said Lily slowly. "They said – " She stopped, not wanting to rub Mary's face in it. "Not everyone thinks that way," she said instead, her voice gentle again.

"Yes, they do," said Mary. "You want to know why Sirius Black saved me? Because he wants to annoy his parents. Not for any other reason. Just you wait. McKinnon and Hornwick are both pureblood and – "

"And they think all this blood stuff is nonsense," Lily interrupted, privately thinking that Mary was astonishingly well informed about people's families.

"Yeah, well," Mary muttered. Then, louder: "I wish I'd never come to Hogwarts. I don't belong here."

"Yes, you do," Lily said firmly. "Being pureblood doesn't make you a better witch. You belong here just as much as Alvina, or Mulciber – "

"They don't think so," said Mary bitterly.

"Then they're not worth your time!" Lily burst out. Mary might have always come across as rather stuck up, and a bit vain and interested in gossip – but she wasn't a horrible person, and no one deserved to feel the way she'd been made to feel. "Honestly, Mary," she pressed on, "I know it seems bad, but it really is only a small minority that think it matters – "

"_All _my friends – "

"They're just scared!" Lily said. It felt a bit odd to defend Alvina Carrington, of all people, but she knew, deep down, that even spiteful Alvina was not a blood purist. She was snobby, and she'd always been rude about Lily's poor background, but Lily had never had the sense that Alvina hated her for it.

"What does it matter?" Mary asked. Her eyes were shining again. "I'm still left in the same position. No friends, wishing I'd just stayed at home and been a Muggle."

Lily could not imagine having not come to Hogwarts; having thrown away the letter from a Professor McGonagall instead of going to Diagon Alley with Severus and buying all the things she would need to be a witch. She had never once regretted her choice – not since she had stepped foot in the castle and seen everything magic had to offer. It seemed awful that Mary did not feel the same way.

"You can be my friend," she blurted out, before she'd realised what she was saying.

For a moment, Mary just blinked at her. "What?"

"You can be my friend," Lily repeated, her voice a little stronger now. This, at least, was something she could do – some small way she could help. "I couldn't give a damn whom I'm seen with. And I'm Muggle Born anyway, so I certainly won't be in any more danger by hanging around with you."

Mary stared at her, her mouth a little open, before she closed it abruptly. Then she said, quite unexpectedly: "McKinnon hates me."

"No, she doesn't," Lily protested, though it was true Marlene had little patience for Mary and Alvina, whom she had denounced more than once as being vapid. "I'll talk to her," she promised. "She'll come round." She was privately sure that Marlene would make a great show of protest, but Marlene had a good heart, deep down, and Lily knew she would be as disgusted with Alvina's behaviour as Lily was.

Mary frowned a little. "How can you be so nice to everyone, all the time?"

"Oh, I'm not," Lily said, a little amused. "I've got quite the temper on me, you know."

"Yeah, only when people deserve it, though." Mary swiped at her face with the back of her hand. "Thanks," she murmured. "For coming. And for…you know."

"Well, someone had to talk you out of this ridiculous funk you've got yourself into," said Lily. She smiled, and Mary managed a thin smile in return, before she glanced down at her lap.

"It doesn't really work that way, though," she said quietly. "You don't just – decide to be friends with someone, and you are."

"Why not? We're both Gryffindors – we must have something in common. Anyway," Lily ploughed on, "I bet you never would have been best friends with Alvina at the start had you not both been in Gryffindor. Circumstances are always bringing people together – why not this?"

Mary eyed her curiously again, and for a moment Lily thought she was going to argue some more – talk about someone who looked a gift horse in the mouth. But after a second, Mary simply looked back down at her lap and said simply:

"Do you want a Sugar Quill?"

"I'd love one. Or several," Lily replied, and Mary, looking a little amused and undeniably better, passed her the box to open.

* * *

It was feeling somewhat troubled that Lily left the Hospital Wing around forty-five minutes later.

She was glad she'd been to see Mary, who was far more interesting and engaging than Lily had realised when her dorm mate was in the shadow of Alvina Carrington. She had told Lily about her family – all Muggles, even her brother and sister – and how much she missed them when she was at Hogwarts. Alvina had never visited her house; Mary thought it was because she was afraid of being out of her comfort zone, the world of magic. Mary's father was a solicitor; her mum a teacher. They were evidently much better off than Lily's parents, and lived in the city of York, but Mary had said, "Ooh, Cokeworth. Yes, I know it," without a trace of snobbery, and she had asked Lily eagerly if the cake shop on Station Road was still there: her mother had purchased her a birthday cake from it once and Mary had pronounced it the best cake she'd ever had.

All in all, Lily had had quite a pleasant time in the Hospital Wing. But she couldn't shake her unease and disgust over how Mary's friends had treated her. Mulciber , who had always been bigoted and interested in the Dark Arts, was one thing; Alvina, aloof but otherwise quite harmless, was another. Would Lily's friends from other Houses start pushing her away too?

Was that what Severus was trying to do?

_No, _she tried to tell herself, although the thought of Severus made her feel miserable. She still couldn't believe he'd just sat there the day before, letting Avery and Mulciber say those things. She'd told Marlene off enough times for her snide remarks about Severus. But Lily knew it was not about blood; she knew Severus too well. He just didn't want to alienate his dorm mates. If there were two things Severus craved, it was recognition and acceptance.

But why did that have to come from the likes of Avery and Mulciber?

Frustrated, Lily gave herself a mental shake as she walked down the corridor. She had managed to keep herself from mulling over Severus the previous day, largely thanks to James Potter, who had offered to show her the beetle-into-a-badger spell. They had spent the whole afternoon practising, with some results less hilarious than others – Lily was now firmly of the view that a beetle that was badger-sized was one of the least pleasant things magic could create. That said, she had laughed long and hard with James when his original badger had come skidding out of the Forest to their defence. ("What do you know?" James had said, stunned. "They _are _loyal!"). She had managed it eventually, and James had given her the widest grin she'd seen him wear for days.

_When did he become James? _a mental echo of Marlene's voice mocked her. She pushed it away, but it was only half-hearted. She'd had fun yesterday; she wasn't going to make herself feel bad about that.

She was due to meet her friends by the lake for lunch, so she headed in that direction. She took the shortcut avoiding the Entrance Hall, which would be busy at this time, instead swerving past the library and towards the stone courtyard. She was already thinking about what she was going to say to her friends about Mary – she had to tell them, not least because she'd just agreed to let Mary hang around with her.

Guiltily, she wondered if she really ought to have impliedly signed up her friends for such a thing.

"Lily! _Lily_!"

The familiar voice cut through her like a knife as she neared the exit to the courtyard. _Severus. _For a moment, she considered increasing her pace and pretending she hadn't heard – hadn't he done that to her just a few days before, to leave her chasing after him like some idiot?

"Lily!"

She just wasn't that cruel. She halted, and slowly turned on the spot, to see Severus hurrying down the otherwise empty corridor towards her. He was wearing the same clothes as the day before – a faded, black, ill-fitting shirt and trousers that had become a smidge too short as the year had progressed. His limp hair clung to his face as he came to a stop in front of her, slightly out of breath.

"What, Severus?" she asked, a little more sharply than she might have intended. He looked rather taken aback, but he brushed his hair from his face and managed a smile.

"Do you want to have lunch together?"

Lily felt her eyebrows shooting up. She couldn't tell whether this was supposed to be the world's most subtle apology, or if Severus genuinely didn't realise that he'd done anything wrong. His expression gave nothing away as he waited expectantly for her answer.

"Sorry, Sev," she settled on at last. "I promised to have lunch with all the girls." She gestured towards the window, where the sun shone brightly, as if to underline what a good idea this was.

Severus's face fell instantly; he looked quite put out by this news.

"You're always hanging around with Gryffindors," he said rather moodily.

"Dorcas is a Ravenclaw," Lily said, a touch impatiently. "And my friends from Hufflepuff are going to be there too. Look, I've got to go; I'm going to be late. I'll see you later." Before she could think better of it, she turned away and started walking. Severus was an expert in detaining her and she had a million things she wanted to say to him, so it wouldn't take much to make her late for lunch.

"What about Potter?" Severus suddenly called after her.

Inches away from the archway leading to courtyard, Lily halted again, suddenly on edge. There was something in Severus's tone – something suspicious, and resentful.

"What about him?" she asked slowly.

"Is he going to be there?"

"Why would he be?"

"I know you're hanging around with him now," Severus said, his features twisting as he glared at her.

"So what?" Lily said, a touch impatiently.

"You left me in the library yesterday to talk to _him _instead." Severus's jaw jutted out, indicating his moodiness. He had followed her from the library yesterday, Lily realised. But he couldn't have wanted to talk to her; she hadn't been walking very quickly – he could easily have caught her up. Instead, he'd just followed her and watched her talking to James Potter – a fact he was now trying to twist into something sinister. She felt a twinge of exasperation.

"Oh, for goodness' sake," she said. "I didn't leave you in the library so I could swan off with James Potter or any other Gryffindor; I left because you let your dorm mates say disgusting things about me without doing anything about it!"

"They're my friends," said Severus defensively. "Besides, you've never had any problems in telling them where to go before – "

"That's not the point, Sev." Lily sighed, wrapping her arms across her front. She suddenly felt tired. "I have to go and meet my friends," she said. "See you later, maybe." She turned abruptly once more, and headed outside, grateful for the fresh air.

"What's _wrong _with you?' Severus demanded, jogging after her and falling into step beside her. "I thought we were supposed to be friends. Best friends!"

"We _are_, Sev, but I don't like some of the people you're hanging around with," Lily burst out, her temper finally getting the better of her as they strode across the courtyard. "I'm sorry, but I detest Avery and Mulciber. _ Mulciber!_" she repeated in disbelief. "What do you see in him, Sev? He's creepy! Do you know what he tried to _do_ to Mary Macdonald the other day?"

Of course he knew; he'd been one of those crowded around Mulciber at breakfast the previous morning, hadn't he? And was there even the slightest possibility that Mulciber hadn't bragged about it in the Slytherin dormitories? But Lily wanted to hear it from Severus; wanted to hear him tell her that it was an awful thing, that, secretly, he thought Mulciber was as much of a scumbag as Lily did.

But when she reached one of the pillars and turned around to look at him, he was looking defensive again.

"That was nothing," he protested. "It was a laugh, that's all."

For a second, Lily just stared at him. A _laugh? He _ought to go up to the Hospital Wing to see poor Mary's hair – hair she wouldn't have even _had, _if Mulciber had been successful – and Mary's miserable expression.

"It was Dark Magic," she said, her voice low and angry, "and if you think that's funny – "

"What about the stuff Potter and his mates get up to?" Severus interrupted. His bad mood was back; the colour was high in his pale cheeks.

"What's Potter got to do with anything?" Lily shot back.

She had intended it as a challenge – a warning that she recognised that he was trying to get away from the subject of Avery and Mulciber, a warning for him to stop bringing up James Potter in an attempt to distract her. But it had the opposite effect: as if Lily had unblocked a drain full of resentment, Severus's expression screwed up in disgust, and his mouth twisted as if he was dying to tell her what he thought.

But, to Lily's surprise, all he came out with was: "They sneak out at night!"

Lily's expression must have conveyed her disbelief that this was what he had really meant to say. For a moment, he hesitated, and then, attempting nonchalance but still not quite managing to hide the sly note in his tone: "And there's something weird about that Lupin. Where does he keep going?"

Ordinarily, Lily's heart would have dropped at this – more of Severus's insinuations about her friend. But this time she only felt frustration and disappointment. She'd thought she'd got her point across last time they'd discussed this subject.

"He's ill," she got out through gritted teeth. "They say he's ill – "

"Every night at full moon?" Severus pressed keenly.

"I know your theory," she said. She crossed her arms across her chest to hide her balled up fists. "Why are you so obsessed with them anyway?" Her voice came out cold. "Why do you care what they're doing at night?"

Severus seemed to notice how prickly she had become; he took a deep breath, as if trying to control his own temper. "I'm just trying to show you that they're not as wonderful as everyone thinks they are." His tone was still rather pointed, as if insinuating that because she had spoken to James Potter the day before, she must have fallen into this trap. But there was something more in his gaze – as if imploring her to understand him, how he really felt about her speaking to James Potter and his friends…

The heat rose in Lily's cheeks; she looked away. She did not want the conversation to be derailed. "They don't use Dark Magic, though," she said. At once Severus's expression changed to a sneer and Lily's temper got the better of her. "Anyway," she said, her voice low and angry, "you're being really ungrateful. _I _heard what happened the other night." She fixed him with look she hoped conveyed her hurt that he had not told her about this himself. "You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Whomping Willow, and James Potter saved you from whatever's down there – "

At once, Severus's expression went from derisive to outraged. A vein bulged in his temple.

"Saved? _Saved?_ You think _he _was playing the hero? He was saving _his_ neck, and his friends' too!" Lily's eyes narrowed at this piece of information, but Severus was, evidently, too distracted to notice as he continued his rant. "You're not going to – I won't let you – "

"Let me?" Lily interrupted, her gaze narrowing further. "_Let me?"_

Severus went from red to white in a matter of seconds. "I didn't mean – I just don't want to see you made a fool of – he fancies you; James Potter fancies you!" he finally burst out. Lily's eyebrows shot up, some of her anger dissipating slightly as she realised that Severus did not really mean to control her – he was _jealous. _But now that Severus had started, it seemed he could not stop; he was so overtaken by his own bitterness he could barely spit the words out. "And he's not – Everyone thinks – Big Quidditch hero…"

Lily could only watch him in pity as he spluttered on. In his obsession with James Potter and his friends, he had completely missed the point. James Potter could be conceited and full of himself, but he wasn't fundamentally a bad person.

"I know James Potter's an arrogant toerag; I don't need you to tell me that," she said steadily. Predictably, Severus's shoulders sagged with relief at once. Determinedly she pressed on. "But Mulciber and Avery's idea of humour is just evil. _Evil, _Sev. I don't understand how you can be friends with them."

She wasn't even sure Severus was listening any more; he had started walking again, and she turned to fall into step with him.

"_Sev,_" she said. "Will you listento me? They're _horrible."_

Severus stopped and blinked at her, as if he was only just hearing her strictures on his friends. He frowned. "Why are you so bothered?" he asked, turning her own question back on her.

"Lots of reasons! Because they call me foul-mouthed names, and you just sit there and do nothing. Because they started on Mary – "

"You're not even friends with Macdonald – "

"Well, I am now," Lily snapped.

Severus looked worried at this. "Hanging round a Mu…er…Muggle-born," he was tripping over his words, "won't do you any good. I'm just looking out for you!" he implored, as Lily's eyes narrowed dangerously again. He tried to take her hand, but Lily snatched it out of his grip.

"Just like you didn't want me hanging out with Potter because he's a pureblood?" she snapped. "Just whom _can _I be friends with, Severus Snape?"

Severus was watching her, stricken. "_I'll_ always be your friend – "

But Lily was too angry to stop her tirade now. "D'you know what, Sev? I've seen that article – the one about the pureblood who married a Muggle-born, and was killed for it. And d'you know what Alice and Marlene said? That it _didn't matter. _And if they're willing to be my friends even though it puts them in danger, I think I owe it to them to do the same, don't you?"

"What's that got to do with Potter?" Severus demanded. There were two high spots of colours in his cheeks.

Lily stared at him impassively for a few seconds.

"Merlin, you're impossible," she muttered, before she started to walk away.

Straight away, however, Severus had darted forward to grab her hand. Lily turned quickly, staring at him; he blushed, but he kept her hand in his.

"You don't understand," he said, his voice low and urgent.

"Then explain."

Severus's face was still blotchy; he swallowed. Just as Lily was wondering whether she should leave, he spoke again.

"You don't know how…humiliating all this has been." It evidently cost Severus quite a lot to admit this; he would not look at her, and he dropped her hand, putting his hands in his pockets instead. "All my dorm mates find it hilarious that I was rescuedby _Potter." _He practically spat the name. Lily touched his arm, but he shook her off. "They've only just started speaking to me again," he said. "I've told you before – I can't not speak to them. They're my dorm mates."

"I'm not asking you not to _speak _to them," said Lily. "I'm asking you to pull them up when they start calling me disgusting names and start picking on my friends."

"Macdonald wasn't even your friend!"

"That's not the point, Sev!"

He knew it wasn't: the blush rose in his cheeks, and his gaze dropped to the ground, and Lily knew that he understood that he had hurt her. He had simply hoped that they could brush over it without a fuss.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You're right. I should have stood up to Avery and Mulciber. But I guess I thought – you're always so _strong_, and you've never taken anyone's rubbish. And this has just been…" He took a deep breath, and raised his gaze. "_Please _try to understand what it's like. Everyone talking about how Potter rescued me, and it wasn't even like that; it wasn't – "

"What wasit like, then?" Lily asked gently.

Severus surveyed her for several moments, before he dropped his gaze again. "I can't tell you," he said bitterly. "I thought maybe you'd…but I'll be expelled if I tell."

"You what?" Lily was a bit taken aback, but then she realised how much sense that made: how the story had come from Peeves, when it would ordinarily have come from James Potter himself, who never would have wasted an opportunity to humiliate Severus unless he was forced to; why James had told her nothing when she had asked; and his argument with Sirius must be all bound up in this too, because why else would James refuse to tell her about that? And it explained why Severus had avoided her. She'd guessed he'd been feeling humiliated. What she hadn't guessed was that he wouldn't actually be allowed to explain the full story to her.

"I'm sorry too," Lily said softly. She took Severus's hand; he glanced up at her, his expression one of hardly daring to hope. "I understand now, how difficult it's been for you. But you really did upset me yesterday, when you didn't say anything. I can take care of myself, but it'd be nice to know you'd stand up for me if I needed you."

"I would. I will," said Severus at once. "It won't happen again, I promise. I won't let them come between us." He squeezed her hand, gazing at her intensely; Lily could feel the heat creeping into her cheeks again, but she didn't remove her hand. This was too important.

"I believe you," she said. "But, Sev, about those Dark Arts meetings – "

"That spell Mulciber used wasn't anything he'd learned at those meetings," Severus said at once. "It was something his dad taught him. They don't actually teach us how to use those spells, you know – they just _tell _us about them." His grip on her hand tightened. "_Please,_" he implored. "You can't say anything, just because of Macdonald. We'd all be chucked out of school."

"Mulciber deserves to be chucked out."

"Do I?" Severus challenged.

"No," Lily sighed. "But I'm worried that sooner or later, someone will use those spells, and I'll be just as culpable, really, for not having told someone."

"He didn't even learn that spell from those meetings."

"Mary's refusing to have her memories recovered!" Lily said. "How do you know _what_ he used? Aside from the Baldness Curse – it could have been anything!"

Severus blanched; finally, Lily thought she might have got through to him. He did not say anything for nearly a minute, and Lily let him stew.

"I…er…didn't realise she had a memory problem," he said eventually.

"Mulciber did something to addle her brains," said Lily. "A Memory Charm or something. Dumbledore wanted to recover her memories for her but she says she doesn't want to remember."

"Dumbledore?" Severus asked hoarsely. He seemed to be struggling with this news; his skin looked like it was coated in a thin sheen of sweat. Lily thought she knew why.

"Look, even if Dumbledore found out exactly what Mulciber did, and Mulciber _were _expelled – he wouldn't rat out the rest of you that attend those meetings, would he?" She squeezed his hand again, but Severus jerked it out of her grip.

"I…I don't know." He looked very stressed. "He might, if he thought it would save his own back, but anyway – " He stopped suddenly, as if there was more he would like to have said, and took a deep breath. "I need to go and talk to him," he said abruptly. "I – I'll see you later?"

"Wait." Lily's hand shot out to grab his arm, and for a moment they just stared at one another. They were not yet done with their conversation: Lily needed to talk about this more, about what she should do about these meetings. She could not possibly sit on the knowledge of them indefinitely. But now was not the time: Severus looked as though the rug had just been pulled out from under his feet; and Lily knew he wanted to get to Mulciber, and find out exactly what Mulciber had done – whether he really would be expelled for it, and how strong the Memory Charm he had used had been.

"Will you tell me what he says?" she asked instead. Severus eyed her, his gaze suddenly shrewed.

"Do you really want to know?" he asked. "Do you really want to be given something else to keep secret?"

It was a powerful argument. Wordlessly, Lily shook her head, and Severus, without saying anything else, hurried away, leaving her wondering if the secrets between them would ever dissipate.

* * *

A/N: Gosh, it's been another long wait – I'm so sorry. All I can say is that this chapter has been the hardest I have ever had to write. Special thanks, as is often the case, to ArwenFairTinuviel, who gave me lots of support and encouragement.

Lots of love and thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far; you really do make my day when you leave a review.


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